


worse than nicotine

by mercuryretrograte (brujadelmar)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Airplane Sex, Alternate Universe, Break Up Talk, Casual Sex, Happy Ending, Heart Line/Park Family, M/M, Marijuana, Minor Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Wu Yi Fan | Kris, Mutual Pining, Open Relationships, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 41,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22260955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brujadelmar/pseuds/mercuryretrograte
Summary: It seemed that Jongin’s bare presence threw everything into chaos; he was a never-ending disruptive force.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai
Comments: 31
Kudos: 207





	1. I taste you on my lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxlostinthedragonxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxlostinthedragonxx/gifts).



> read the notes

.

Kyungsoo rushed to the gates. It was a long way of lights on his eyes and loud people on his way. The woman on the speakerphone just announced his gate and flight and he walked faster, tracing his route like a videogame while the spinner luggage was slightly shaking. They said that the flight was delayed but, in the end, they managed to get it right. Kyungsoo stopped by the end of the line and stared at his watch – a full brand golden Rolex that he didn’t exactly love. When he was climbing positions, his boss asked him – in a very polite way, which surprised him – to buy expensive things to impress the oversea clients, ‘because you’re not selling the restaurant brand, you’re selling yourself too’. It took a while for him to understand that he was wrong when he believed that his hard work was enough; everything was a text to be read, to be sold. Kyungsoo, as a former actor, just needed to study the part and play a role.

“What’s your seat?” A man asked in English. He was holding a tablet. Kyungsoo showed him his ticket and waited until the man found him on the passenger list. “Are you traveling alone?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said after a moment. He always traveled alone, anyway. “Why?”

“We can offer a better seat for you in another flight,” the man said seriously. “No extra taxes.”

Kyungsoo just stared at him, confused.

“Thirty minutes from now,” the man said. “First class, free meal.”

Kyungsoo looked down at himself, confused. He was still using a suit. Did this guy think that he needed free gifts or…?

“The flight is too crowded,” the man explained quickly. “We’re moving passengers to another flight to not cause any inconvenience. That’s only if you’re okay with it.

Kyungsoo looked around, paying attention to the suitcases and bags that the other passengers were carrying. Suddenly, he felt claustrophobic… anxious.

“Yes,” he said simply, surprising himself. He wasn’t in a hurry but he didn’t like to change plans, yet he could call Chanyeol and ask him to feed his dogs. He still had the keys, apparently. The man talked to someone on the phone; Kyungsoo was regretting his choice even if he had no time to actually think before answering.

It took almost ten minutes for him to be removed from the line and led to a seat on an empty row next to the gate. Another man, another uniform, and they offered him food. He said ‘later’, they argued that his flight was boarding in less than thirty minutes.

“Thank you, I’ll pass,” he said and fumbled in the pocket for his phone. It was almost Christmas. Of course, everyone would be traveling somewhere, maybe back home, far from workplaces and simple tasks. Kyungsoo ignored group messages and stared at some unread emails, not daring to touch them.

He smelled ham – he wasn’t even hungry, but the smell made him look up.

A man had sat just next to him. His colorful bags were on the floor and in the other seat. Kyungsoo noticed his shoes first because he was shaking his feet and his fancy slippers were dangerously hanging on his toes. Kyungsoo turned his neck to see who it was but every detail distracted him: the tight immaculate blue jeans, the short black-and-grey striped shirt that barely covered his belly and the bear keychain with the poor stuffed animal missing an arm.

The worst part is that the man looked even older than him while having his cheeks stuffed with a ham sandwich.

“Hmm?” He noticed Kyungsoo staring. “Sorry!”

He moved a little to the other side and yet Kyungsoo didn’t understand why he was apologizing.

“Did I spit on you?” The man asked seriously, now in Korean, covering his mouth with his hand.

“No,” Kyungsoo mumbled. His face was familiar.

“Oh, okay,” the man nodded. “Sorry for disturbing you, anyway.”

“You didn’t,” Kyungsoo said politely and looked at his phone.

All he had to do was wait. Thirty minutes and he would be on his way, even if he had to face a few hours to arrive. He went back to his phone but then he couldn’t pay attention anymore. The guy was chewing loudly and Kyungsoo could smell something besides ham, some fancy perfume.

“I’m sorry, but were you moved to another fight too?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Yes,” the man nodded again, holding his sandwich with both hands. “I wasn’t going to accept it because I’m late, but it’s hard for me to fall asleep when it’s crowded. It only happens in planes.”

The man noticed that he overshared and shrank in size suddenly. He was taller and bigger than Kyungsoo; his long legs were now crossed, one shoe on the floor.

“I said yes, but I’m not… sure.” Kyungsoo shared his worries to help the other. “I hope it’s not delayed.”

“They did this to me before, it probably won’t,” he reassured Kyungsoo, who pushed his glasses up, nervous. He wanted to check, again and again, to read the new tickets. When he was in school, he was forced to read the same sentence many times because of his very poor vision. It took time for him to understand complicated things.

The man finished his sandwich and grabbed a book. Kyungsoo was still deciding on what email to read first, when he remembered his dogs and sent a message to Chanyeol, which cost him the time to answer an avalanche of questions. An employee reached them:

“You have to go down to change your tickets,” he said, handing them papers. “Sign on the last line and give it to them.”

Kyungsoo did exactly as he was told and he almost forgot that there was someone else in the same situation. He only noticed when he heard the steps behind him on the almost empty escalator.

“Hey,” he said, blinking. The man was late because he was carrying heavy bags. “Do you want help?”

There was something cinematographic on having to talk to someone that way: Kyungsoo, almost reaching the floor and the poor man, just reaching the escalator.

“No, thanks,” he almost screamed, looking down. His brown hair seemed to be soft, falling on his forehead. “I mean… can you wait for me?”

Kyungsoo stood out in silence until the man was next to him.

“I don’t like talking to the employees here,” the man confided. “They’re… mean.”

“I understand,” Kyungsoo said sincerely, staring at his red fingers carrying multiple things. “I can carry your book, at least.”

“Oh,” he smiled, moving his hand to meet Kyungsoo’s. “Thank you…”

 _Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay,_ Elena Ferrante. Kyungsoo read the title in silence and noticed that the man was fidgeting with his bear keychain as if his fingers weren’t busy enough. There was an old man trying to organize the lines and he noticed the two of them standing.

“Are you waiting to have your bags checked?” The old man asked impatiently.

“They moved our flights,” Kyungsoo said and he noticed how weird it sounded, to be the one who spoke first. He only did that when he went out with Sehun. “We’re here to get new tickets.”

The old man turned to a woman behind the counter and said something they couldn’t hear.

“There,” he pointed to her. “Are you two together?”

Kyungsoo was distracted for a second.

“No,” he said quickly because he always traveled alone. “I mean—”

“Yes,” the man next to him said, visibly giggling. “Not together- _together_ , but… same boat.”

The old man was impatient and just gestured to the counter. It was quite simple and they were nicer; Kyungsoo signed his name again and they changed the tickets. The man signed too.

> Kim Jongin.

“Are you…” Kyungsoo said too loudly. “Sorry.”

“You don’t look like the type that would recognize me,” Jongin said, catching him reading. “At least not by my name.”

Kyungsoo stared at him.

“We have to go back,” Jongin said.

“Of course,” Kyungsoo said, embarrassed. He didn’t know who this man was, not at all.

“I used to be a runway model,” Jongin seemed to read his thoughts. “Now I basically sell and promote things for brands, so if you live in Seoul, you probably saw my face somewhere.”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo realized, walking distractedly. “Are you supposed to travel by yourself? Is that safe?”

Jongin seemed to be taken aback by the question and he giggled again.

“Not if I’m working, but I escape once in a while because of personal matters,” he smiled. “Or with my friends… or anything, really. Don’t worry.”

“Ah, I see,” Kyungsoo smiled back for a second. They found the gate and waited, standing at the end of the short line. Jongin put his bags on the floor and Kyungsoo gave him the book back.

“Thank you,” Jongin smiled again, bowing. They let him in easily but Jongin was asked about one of his bags. Kyungsoo found his seat and was surprised when he saw their first-class seat. It was ample and it looked comfortable like a bed, despite the movie list being a bit disappointing. He was excited to watch a movie after weeks of hard work.

He was taking off his shoes when Jongin came in, holding a blanket and humming a song.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Jongin was startled for a second, but smiled. “I kept my personal bag, so. I’ll survive.”

It was an expensive-looking black bag with a huge eye-like symbol. Kyungsoo nodded and kept taking off his shoes, even if he couldn’t stop staring at Jongin. The man was standing, putting the bag on the floor and Kyungsoo couldn’t help but analyze his back – the bare part that the tiny shirt couldn’t hide. He had a white, small scar in the shape of a line on his back, contrasting with his tan, shinning skin. He was tall and well built and yet skinny, like a long line with some muscles. Well, he said that he used to be a model, after all.

“God, did I lose his present…” Jongin was mumbling. “Where are my keys?”

“In your pocket,” Kyungsoo said without thinking. Jongin fumbled his pocket until he found it, which shouldn’t take long since the bear keychain was huge.

“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “I… forgot.”

“No problem,” Kyungsoo said, realizing that he was paying too much attention.

“Did I ask your name?” Jongin turned to him completely.

“No,” Kyungsoo said quickly, and then added. “Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Ah, thank you, Kyungsoo,” he sounded satisfied. “I’m sorry if I’m messy. I don’t know how to pack.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” Kyungsoo said politely.

Kyungsoo chose a historical movie, something about a European war. He had read a few reviews about it when the movie was on theaters, but he never found time to actually watch it. Jongin was getting ready to sleep - from his neck pillow to his blanket.

A flight attendant came in to check on them; the plane was going to take off, apparently. She checked on Kyungsoo but had a small talk with Jongin.

“… I have a headache, it gets worse with sounds,” he was explaining shyly. “So I wonder if we could be here in silence without anyone walking in…”

Kyungsoo noticed that he was holding a pill.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” the flight attendant said in a sweet way. “We have to come here to check before landing and you can ask when you need food. There are only the two of you here, anyway.”

Kyungsoo said nothing and, for once, focused on the movie. For the next two hours, he watched it feverously, trying to see what was right or wrong. Jongin slept, he thought, for a while. It was peaceful there, after all. When the movie was over, Kyungsoo went to the lavatory. Jongin was reading his book, his face leaning on the pillow, eyes moving slowly. Kyungsoo returned with wet hands, careful not to disturb him.

He heard a loud sniff. Jongin was crying.

“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asked, confused. He looked fine, besides the tears.

“Sorry, it’s the book,” he smiled sadly. “It’s… a sad part.”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo sat down. “I’m sorry. I thought it was your headache.”

“Oh, no, no, I always have some sort of physical pain, you should see my pillbox,” he laughed, as if it was a really funny thing to say. “It’s this series’ third book, I’ve been reading the same story for three months, so… it hits hard when something bad happens, like they’re my friends or…”

He gulped, noticing that he was oversharing again. Kyungsoo smiled tentatively.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I’m babbling. It’s the medicine… it gets me dizzy but I can’t sleep anymore. I will keep reading.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Kyungsoo said. “To keep reading, I mean. Doesn’t it make you dizzier?”

Jongin shrugged, trying to say that he had no other choice. Kyungsoo could see his leg shaking, how restless he was – it must be annoying, he thought, to be dizzy and awake.

“You look safe,” Jongin said simply, face against the pillow, staring at Kyungsoo. “I don’t talk this much around strangers.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he smiled shyly. “It must be the reason why I’m the mom’s favorite between my friends.”

Jongin giggled; he looked younger now.

“I don’t want to sound invasive, but… you have two dogs as your lock screen,” he was fidgeting again. “Perhaps… they’re yours?”

They started to talk. Kyungsoo showed him pictures of Ink and Pepper, told him how he adopted them. Jongin showed him pictures of his dogs, now three, because the oldest one died recently. He lived with his parents, mostly because he was barely in the country and they took care of the dogs better. He had two sisters, a nephew and a niece that he bought a thousand of gifts because ‘he had a soft spot’ for them. Kyungsoo told him that his brother dated a man and Jongin didn’t react at all, expecting something else to be said. Kyungsoo was relieved and yet curious.

“Did you study abroad?” Kyungsoo inquired.

“Not really,” Jongin shrugged. “I’m a world citizen, but only after I started working. Did you? You have a nice pronunciation.”

“No,” Kyungsoo said simply. His family was broke and he had a part-time job during high school. He learned English by singing songs in musicals and reading books, but he didn’t want to share that with someone with money. Kyungsoo knew that Jongin's carelessness around expensive things meant that he had financial support, that even before he made his own money, he had someone providing his security. He knew how they acted when they had someone having their back.

“Then what were you doing—sorry. That was invasive,” Jongin sat straight, pressing his lips into a line. “I guess—”

“Work,” Kyungsoo said.

“Ah,” Jongin nodded. “Of course. You look like you were in a meeting.”

Kyungsoo realized that he hadn’t taken the suit jacket off. He did it slowly, afraid that he may have wrinkled something. He put the jacket in his bag carefully and turned to Jongin.

He looked different, his eyes focused and his mouth half-open. Kyungsoo stared back, confused – what a heavy gaze he had. It was like he was seeing through Kyungsoo.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he gulped. “I think.”

They stopped talking. Jongin got rid of the pillow and Kyungsoo went back to search for another movie.

“Do you date someone?” Jongin asked suddenly with a casual tone. “If you don’t mind answering.”

Kyungsoo fixed his glasses to take a look at him.

“No,” he said.

“Why?” Jongin asked, curious.

“I’m busy,” Kyungsoo answered dryly.

“Ah,” Jongin looked down. Maybe he was expecting Kyungsoo to ask the same thing, but Kyungsoo would never. None of his business.

Jongin’s feet were moving, rubbing his slippers on the floor. They were completely alone, Kyungsoo looked around. No kids on the plane, a brutal silence. Kyungsoo felt the tension before Jongin asked,

“Can I have your number, Kyungsoo?”

It was a mix of uncertainty and hope. Kyungsoo stared at him and he suddenly missed his best friends, the Chanyeol and Sehun’s lack of subtlety. They would laugh and slap Kyungsoo like they did every time. But now Kyungsoo was alone with that man, that handsome man that wanted his number. He didn’t look like someone that needed friends to ask someone out.

“Why?” Kyungsoo asked sincerely.

Jongin was startled. He probably never had to explain himself. Maybe he never had to ask for a number, Kyungsoo concluded.

“I like you,” Jongin said. “I wish we could see each other again.”

“For what?” Kyungsoo frowned. “I don’t like going out or walking on the streets.”

I’m boring, Kyungsoo thought, in silence, because his friends didn’t want him to say it. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that someone like that wanted his number.

Jongin looked resigned. He opened his mouth and closed again.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “I just want to see you again.”

Kyungsoo took his pen out of his pocket. It was an expensive retractable pen that he got as a gift. He walked to Jongin’s and took his book. As Kyungsoo expected, he tore some pages and it had food taints everywhere. _Careless_ , Kyungsoo repeated. He could afford another book; his restless fingers were always trying to destroy something.

“Here,” Kyungsoo gave it back.

Jongin stared at the book and then looked up at him.

“I know the answer now,” he said without blinking. “It’s because you’re really, really hot.”

Kyungsoo wanted to laugh.

“You have a weird taste in men,” he raised one eyebrow. He could see Jongin’s collarbones and a small tattoo peeking out; everything about him was attractive. His lips were dry and he didn’t shave right, Kyungsoo thought.

“And you?” Jongin asked, no longer unsure.

Kyungsoo didn’t have a taste for people. He had a strong libido, impure thoughts that were there all the time and he lived quite well with it, with wanting sex and sometimes having sex and yet not being attracted to anyone in particular.

He held Jongin’s wrist gently and Jongin used his other hand to pull him down for a kiss. It felt like a dream, something that couldn’t happen, a huge exception that no one could have predicted. Jongin smelled like expensive perfume and ham and it was hilarious, hysterical. He kissed Kyungsoo with an open mouth, licking him with no shame. They found a way between bent knees and thighs to make it comfortable; not that straddling in a plane could be comfortable but they didn’t mind. Kyungsoo held his face with both hands and Jongin’s arms were around him so quickly and naturally that he didn’t even notice. It was that kind of a kiss that demanded every second of his attention and it made the air conditioner and the clothes just a small inconvenience. Jongin grabbed his waist and – maybe unconsciously – moved his hips. Kyungsoo tugged his hair lightly, breaking the kiss for just a second enough to breathe.

“Calm down,” Jongin pleaded, whispering against his mouth. “Please, because I won’t.”

It was cute, Kyungsoo thought, because he was asking for a break while his body was engulfing Kyungsoo’s.

“Do you want to stop?” Kyungsoo moved back, almost sitting on his knees.

“Stop what?” Jongin asked genuinely; he looked adorable with his mouth red like that. “It’s not like we can go any further.”

Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow and took off his glasses, placing it carefully on Jongin’s bag.

“Really…?” Jongin asked gingerly, like a kid asking for permission. “I mean. I don’t travel ready to get in someone’s else pants, you know.”

That made Kyungsoo smile because well, they were his own words. Kyungsoo was methodic and he hated surprises; he really liked rules, order and correct choices. Yet it didn’t feel weird as if something changed in the moment that he was taken from his original flight and now he couldn’t do anything but accept how chaotic life was. Also, he wasn’t into anyone for a while but his pants were uncomfortably tight already thinking about what they could do.

“Stop someone from walking in,” he said, grabbing the sheets. He let his body slip from Jongin’s legs to the floor, falling graciously on his feet. He covered himself with the sheets, settled between Jongin’s legs.

“Oh, oh,” Jongin mumbled in disbelief. “You’re crazy.”

No, Kyungsoo was horny, horny like he never had been before. Jongin’s pants were already unbuttoned so he just had to unzip them and pull down a little. He rubbed his fingers all over his exposed underwear since he couldn’t see very well under the blanket. Kyungsoo felt his hardness and started to salivate, his mind going faster than his hands.

Jongin was moaning like a breath, quiet. Kyungsoo wished that he could see his face on the moment that he pulled it out. Jongin cursed under his breath.

It was like he was possessed by something, hungry for touch. Kyungsoo jerked him off fast, the other hand groping his balls over the fabric. Jongin’s legs jerked a little and Kyungsoo felt powerful, even hornier. With his knees on the floor – goodbye clean pants – he took everything on his mouth at once, closing his eyes. He truly missed the taste of dick.

“Fuck,” Jongin sighed quietly.

He sucked calmly, wet lips constricted, tongue over teeth, heart beating fast. He sneaked his other hand to open his pants, afraid that he would come suddenly due to his excitement, ruining his pants. Jongin’s legs were moving like he was trying too hard to be still and yet the way his dick was pulsing inside of Kyungsoo’s mouth exposed how much he was affected by it.

Kyungsoo wished that he had brought a tissue, now that he was touching himself too. He grabbed the blankets to help him. He wanted Jongin to say something, to moan a bit louder, that was everything he needed to come – not that the feeling of him against his cheeks weren’t good enough. It was big and large and it was going to make his jaw ache later, Kyungsoo thought and that was it. He kept sucking Jongin even after both of them came. It must have been uncomfortable, yet Jongin didn’t touch him, didn’t try to stop Kyungsoo at all.

Kyungsoo wiped his mouth under the blanket and uncovered himself easily. It was hilarious; Jongin was still with his neck pillow, wrecked and boneless.

“Here,” Kyungsoo covered him again and took his glasses back. “It’s dirty. I cleaned myself with it, I’m sorry.”

“You have absolutely no reason to apologize,” Jongin said, breathless. “I’ll live with it.”

Kyungsoo smiled and fixed his pants, dusting off and checking for any stain. Jongin wasn’t in a hurry and he was in the same position for a while before leaving first class to go to the lavatory. When he came back, Kyungsoo was watching a movie. He didn’t get to finish because he fell asleep and when he woke up, he was hungry.

He sat straight and looked around. Jongin was reading.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Did they bring food while I was asleep?”

Jongin jumped in the chair, startled. He looked at Kyungsoo with big eyes, like he was shocked that Kyungsoo was talking to him.

“Yes,” he gulped. “But you can ask for the menu, you just have to call someone.”

Kyungsoo nodded and left to provide his meal. They promise to bring to his seat and he returned, annoyed (because he was hungry). Jongin was staring at him, Kyungsoo stared back.

“I have snacks,” he said. “And candy. Would you like some?”

“Not before a proper meal,” Kyungsoo said and then remembered that his mouth was dirty. “I’m going to wash my teeth. If they come here, can you please ask them to leave condiments?”

“Of course,” Jongin said eagerly. “Of course.”

Kyungsoo found his meal and a plastic cup full of condiments sachets and he muttered a _thank you_ before eating. He watched the rest of the movie and thanked the flight assistant when she returned to collect the plate. Jongin was looking at him, holding his book and when Kyungsoo took his headphones off, he offered a gummy bear bag.

“Are those for your nephew and niece?” Kyungsoo teased him, refusing the treats.

“They’re mine,” Jongin smiled. “I like sweets and kid’s stuff in general.”

Kyungsoo stared at the ripped bear keychain and nodded. Jongin seemed to be uncomfortable with something, legs bouncing and fingers tapping the book. Kyungsoo felt like he wanted to talk but he wasn’t sure. When the pilot announced that they would be landing soon, their eyes met.

“Can I call you?” Jongin asked.

Kyungsoo nodded but he didn’t think it would happen. They had enough and, in the real world, he barely had time to keep in touch with his friends. But Jongin smiled, anyway.

Chanyeol was waiting at the airport already; Kyungsoo rushed, not having time to look back. Not that he wanted to – also, Jongin would have to wait for his bags. They parted ways and Kyungsoo felt that particular euphoria that came with doing something extraordinaire and knowing that no one knew about it.

He walked outside – it was raining. He stood beside the door, letting the rain wash his shoes, appreciating the kind wind. Chanyeol was waving while driving, like Kyungsoo wouldn’t recognize him either way. They were best friends since the teenage years; Kyungsoo couldn’t remember how life was without Chanyeol dragging him around, sending messages and complaining (‘stop ignoring me’, ‘pick your phone’, ‘don’t disappear’). Kyungsoo could recognize his voice, odd-shaped legs and big ears anywhere.

He ran and entered the car, getting wet.

“Sorry,” Chanyeol said, slapping Kyungsoo’s legs like it would make them dry. “It wasn’t raining when I left home.”

“That’s fine,” Kyungsoo said.

“Hey, man, move,” Chanyeol complained, honking. “God, what’s this dumbass doing…?”

Kyungsoo was used to that too.

“So, how was the trip?” Chanyeol turned to him, scratching his nose. “Seatbelt, Kyungsoo. Are you sleepy?”

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo fastened the seatbelt. “It was nice.”

Chanyeol sighed, frustrated.

“We had a deal, Kyungsoo. You need to say three sentences at least.”

“It was just a few weeks,” Kyungsoo counted on his fingers. “I went there to make a deal… and I always went straight to the hotel.”

“Asshole,” Chanyeol kicked him with his feet, since he couldn’t drive – the car was blocking his way. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo nodded and he touched his lips unconsciously.

“Sehun is waiting for us in my house,” Chanyeol honked again. “I know you must be tired but it would be nice if we spent some time together, right? Like a sleepover.”

“Did you feed my dogs?” Kyungsoo inquired.

“Of fucking course,” Chanyeol said. “So, what do you think?”

The car in front of them was waiting for someone and probably thought that they were on their way. With no reaction, Kyungsoo watched Jongin run to the car, carrying the bags and the book desperately. He just threw the things inside and jumped in. 

“Amazing,” Chanyeol rolled his eyes back. “Are you seeing this?”

“Very well,” Kyungsoo answered when the car sped up.

.

Kyungsoo was using one of his clothes that navigated among his friends’ house. It was an old sweater that survived many winters and it was perfectly fine to fit that weak rain. It was too hot, hardly snowing. _The world is ending,_ he read in a sign while he was traveling. The ice was melting, the snow was gone and Sehun was sneezing.

“Put on a damn coat,” Chanyeol complained, cooking in the kitchen. He refused to let Kyungsoo cook – which was understandable because Kyungsoo himself didn’t want to.

Sehun pretended that he didn’t hear. He wanted to wear that new shirt that he liked, even if that meant getting cold.

“He’s mad at me,” Sehun confessed, staring at his phone. “I won’t be here at Christmas.”

Kyungsoo fixed his posture, reclining against the couch. His bent knees were touching the wooden table.

“I’m mad because you don’t want to tell me who you’re dating,” Chanyeol screamed. “I mean, why do you have to be so secretive about everything? How did I end up with you two? No one tells me anything. I just want to be part of your lives, you know.”

Kyungsoo could argue that Chanyeol was definitely the most informed about his life but that didn’t mean much. Most people knew nothing about him. Sehun was a bit worse; he kept silent to be petty.

“You’re a part of my life, I’m wearing your underwear,” Sehun pointed. “And Kyungsoo is wearing your socks.”

They were too big for Kyungsoo’s feet and yet so cozy. Chanyeol was cursing somewhere and Kyungsoo was distracted by the boxes on the room, trying to guess which ones were gifts and which ones were just Chanyeol’s regular uncontrollable money spending.

“Thirty minutes,” Chanyeol walked in with his red-and-green sweater, drying his hands. “I only have diet coke. Does it harmonize with chicken, Kyungsoo?”

“I guess,” Kyungsoo said absently.

“I found a way to apologize,” Sehun said. He had this type of face that never expressed enough. Once in a while, they had to wait to understand if he was joking or not. “I can take you two to the best New Year’s Eve party.”

“Interested,” Chanyeol leaned on the door. “I’m listening.”

“It’s a brand’s private party,” Sehun said casually. He didn’t care about the fact that he had access to good things. From a young age, he got fashion gigs that never made him too excited or interested. He used the money to pay his bills and to fund his and Chanyeol’s studio, but he never treated it as a career. When people asked what he did for a living, he only mentioned being a producer and having a studio. Kyungsoo suspected that he didn’t want people to read him as a pretty face only but it may have been because he was just an introvert.

“Seems boring,” Chanyeol said.

“Food, drinks and fondue,” he emphasized the last word because it was Chanyeol’s latest obsession. “It’s pretty intimate but people will dress well.”

Chanyeol wouldn’t mind. Just like Sehun, he had an affinity with fashion and a taste for expensive clothing. Kyungsoo was the exception.

“Instagram feed party, eh?” Chanyeol seemed to judge like he wasn’t himself an Instagram addict. “Can you put us in?”

“Yes,” Sehun sniffed. Kyungsoo stood up to find a coat.

“How?”

Sehun didn’t answer. Kyungsoo got Chanyeol’s pink jersey and thought that maybe Sehun would like.

“You’re fucking a senior dude,” Chanyeol concluded. “One of these middle-aged guy with lots of money and he’s pampering you.”

“Stop writing fiction, hyung,” Sehun laughed.

“I don’t trust you two,” Chanyeol said. “I know you better than anyone. You just look innocent but I know what you guys did last summer.”

“The last fifteen summers,” Sehun corrected and he didn’t resist when Kyungsoo dressed him. “Kyungsoo-hyung, what do you think?”

“I would prefer to stay in with my dogs,” Kyungsoo said. “But I don’t want to cook.”

When Kyungsoo was little, he loved food and he grew up being more and more interested in cooking. He got a license in adult years because his mother wanted too and she was not so secretly worried that he wouldn’t succeed in acting. When Kyungsoo enlisted as a cook, he was under the supervision of one of the best chefs in the country and that made his experience a lot better. It made him think about cooking for a living, talking about food all day long – at that time, he had no idea that the easiest way to kill a passion is working his ass off doing what he loved.

“Let me dress you,” Sehun pleaded and Kyungsoo was so tired of that conversation that he agreed with it.

He liked spending time with his best friends and no one on earth could compete with them when it was about Kyungsoo’s affections. Kyungsoo grew up being a part of their music projects, sleeping on Chanyeol’s apartment, traveling with Sehun to escape real life. They were his safe space, his refuge but after he enlisted – quite alone since they were too busy building their studio – Kyungsoo felt slightly disconnected from their lives. He always knew that he was the divergent one and that was never a problem, he liked the way they pushed him to places that he would never reach without them.

“You’re too quiet,” Chanyeol narrowed his eyes.

“I’m hungry,” Kyungsoo said, thinking about the things that he would never share.

.

The end of the year was boring and not cold at all and he had to go back to the kitchen to inspect a few things. Luckily for him, his boss didn’t send him to any other meeting and Kyungsoo had free time in his hands so he went to watch a few plays, eyes searching for any possible audition. He didn’t want to go back to his small roles, of course, and he was rusty, rarely trying to reconnect with his old passion. Even his brother commented that he should try something for fun; somehow, they were proud of the fact that he used to be good at so many things, even if he was mediocre at school. Kyungsoo stayed at home, helping his mother, answering emails, planning his year and studying English.

On 31st December, Sehun picked him at his apartment before Kyungsoo could even drink his morning tea.

“We have tons of things to do,” he warned like Kyungsoo cared. It was a day of tons of things that Kyungsoo tried hard to be interested in skincare and hairstyles but it was just like school, when he faced numbers and rules that he knew, deep down, that was useless.

“Did you shave down there?” Chanyeol asked when Sehun took too long to finish his bath.

“Maybe,” he said mysteriously. “I’m kidding. I go to a place where they do that. I can take you next time, I like to hear men screaming in pain.”

Kyungsoo made a face.

“I cut my own nails and take care of my own ass,” he mumbled, offended, fixing his face mask.

The torture only ended when Kyungsoo chose, by his own, a short-sleeved back shirt without no one asking him to. He was wearing tight back pants, black sneakers and his black-framed glasses and he thought it would fit well.

“He’s being a full goth now,” Chanyeol pointed to the picture in white printed on the shirt. “The Smiths.”

Kyungsoo had never heard a song by The Smiths.

“He looks cute,” Sehun said, satisfied that Kyungsoo chose one of his shirts. “He’s handsome.”

Kyungsoo doubted that, walking near Sehun and Chanyeol, someone would think that. He was praised in the army but he was living with a bunch of guys that never had to rely on his looks to survive. They were straight, regular dudes with boring jobs and Kyungsoo had to work hard to look good on auditions – and, once in a while, get laid. He simply wasn’t interested in looking good if he wasn’t getting paid for it.

There was this casual way of going to the expensive area of the town that also irked him. He went there a few times but he wasn’t familiar with it. Chanyeol drove like he knew the places by heart. The event was being held on the terrace of a building that Kyungsoo never even looked at and he was slightly regretted when he walked in and they had to identify themselves. It was just a bunch of things that made him feel uneasy but at least he had his friends with him.

There was a pool with blue lights in the middle of the space. Small groups walked around and he spotted two people, on different sides of the shockingly tall glass curtain wall, posing for a picture. Golden banner balloons indicating the name of the brand and the year were the main point of pictures; tons of phones directed to them. It was easy to spot assistants from celebrities, staff from guests. He looked at himself on a mirror wall and thought that he was about to be mistaken as one of his friends' manager.

“Nice view,” Chanyeol whistled, mesmerized by how high they were.

“I’m gonna get drinks for us,” Sehun said, which meant that he was going to disappear for a while. Before Chanyeol found one of his million friends, Kyungsoo found himself a seat on a corner and relaxed. Sehun really brought him a glass of champagne and a few savories he caught on his way. Kyungsoo watched him leaving again with his shiny coat and perfect posture and felt grateful for his attention. Chanyeol brought Kyungsoo two friends they lost contact a few years before. It wasn’t a painful small talk because one of them had just got married and he seemed to be ready to talk incessantly about his wife.

It happened a couple of hours before midnight when every guest seemed to have arrived and a few had left already (some just came in to say hi, take a few pictures and leave). Kyungsoo had been introduced to a few people and he was trying to look more entertained when they entered the place. The first was a short, middle-aged man, walking in violently, eyes searching for something and, right after him, the familiar face. Kyungsoo needed a moment before recognizing him. He was wearing black suit pants and a long-sleeved striped purple shirt that was slashed low enough at the front to make a full-frontal display of chest. Kyungsoo only noticed the man’s face when he took the cap he was wearing off, and then he held his breath.

The plane guy.

Kyungsoo unconsciously hid his body behind Chanyeol like he used to do in crowded places and hoped that Chanyeol kept being the last person to notice what was going on around him like he used to be. He peered in to double-check and yes, it was him, even if he looked like someone different. He didn’t look unsure or smiley, boyish or confused. He stared at the camera pointed at him and Kyungsoo couldn’t breathe for a second because he was really hot, a hundred times hotter than he looked on that plane. His chest was shining, his hair was styled and he looked like the most confident guy in the room. _Maybe it’s an evil twin,_ Kyungsoo thought for a second, feeling dumb right after.

Chanyeol turned back.

“Want tequila?” He asked, unaware of Kyungsoo’s tension.

“Don’t move,” Kyungsoo held his arm. “I’ll go with you.”

Kyungsoo really tried to spend the night without staring. He walked around, sat down a few times, spoke with everyone that Chanyeol introduced to him but…

“She’s pretty, huh,” Chanyeol mumbled. “The girl with the red dress.”

And there was the fucking guy, on the corner, talking to the girl. It was like Kyungsoo couldn’t run from that man; in which another possible scenario they could meet unexpectedly like that?

“Yes, she is,” Kyungsoo nodded weakly, holding his tequila. She was around him all night long and yet Kyungsoo barely registered the red dress and the long brown hair. He expected Chanyeol to say something about the hot male cleavage too but he didn’t.

The new year countdown started and Sehun went back running, worried. Kyungsoo smiled at him, his loyal friend, and he was suddenly happy, grateful, forgetting everything else. Chanyeol enveloped them in a big hug and Kyungsoo closed his eyes.

.

About three in the morning, Kyungsoo wanted to sleep so he sat near the pool where it was darker and enjoyed how the lights were projected on him too, multiple shining dots like stars against his body. No one was around and half of the party left or was drunk.

Kyungsoo felt the stare, which was weird. He turned his head to the side and the lights kept moving.

“Hey,” Jongin said, standing with a cocktail on his hand. _Déjà vu_ , Kyungsoo thought, because whatever happened between them felt like an odd dream. “Oh, god, it’s really you. It’s not a frenzy.”

Kyungsoo said nothing but smiled. Jongin’s fingers were moving restlessly against the glass.

“Hm, Kyungsoo,” he said out loud and Kyungsoo got chills. “I… It’s okay if we talk?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo finally said. “Of course.”

Jongin walked to him and sat on the same bench gingerly. He smelled the same, Kyungsoo thought and his eyes went straight to his pants.

“I didn’t expect to see you again here,” Jongin gulped, the lights on his throat. “Is it a work thing?”

“No, my friend brought me here,” Kyungsoo said simply.

“Ah, I’m technically working,” Jongin smiled. His lips were glossy and thick, even in the dark. “It was a busier time than I thought it would be.”

“That’s good,” Kyungsoo nodded. He wanted to ask if Jongin was cold – Kyungsoo was using an undershirt and still freezing, - but Jongin had this look in his eye that felt heavy, too intense.

“I was thinking about calling you but I didn’t know if you would like that,” he said quietly. _He didn’t even blink_ , Kyungsoo thought.

“Ah,” Kyungsoo said.

“It’s not a booty call,” Jongin said quickly. “I swear.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Kyungsoo shrugged, trying to look chill. He would be bothered by some guy thinking that he was some fuck buddy or a number to call when horny but well, Jongin was hot enough for a second, maybe a third time.

“You’re crazy,” Jongin giggled.

“I’m not,” Kyungsoo mumbled because it was true. He had a chaotic boner and that was all, a one-time event.

“What are you doing here,” Jongin said as if he was asking himself. “That’s not a nice place, you know. You don’t look like you fit here.”

“And _you_ belong here?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Not really, but it’s like, my public persona,” Jongin sighed. “Beyoncé has Sasha Fierce, you know? I have mine too. Oh, god. You also don’t look like someone who listens to Beyoncé.”

“I do,” he said. “Her live performances mostly. She’s a great performer.”

Jongin smiled brightly, leaning his head. It was hypnotizing. Kyungsoo didn’t move because he was afraid that he would try to kiss the man. There was a buzzing noise that broke the spell.

“I can’t escape tonight,” Jongin said suddenly. “But soon I will. Please answer when I call.”

Kyungsoo didn’t want to make promises and gladly, he didn’t have to, because the man who came with Jongin found them.

“Just a minute, please,” Jongin turned to him quickly. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

The man was under the light, far from them, and he just nodded and left; his walk was still aggressive.

“My manager will eat me alive,” Jongin whispered. “But it’s worth it because we saw each other, right?”

Kyungsoo didn’t think that seeing him was enough. That small and unique experience was better than it and he didn’t want to ruin this memory with awkwardness. He touched Jongin’s face with a cold hand and leaned in to kiss him. It was dark and no one would be sober enough to care. _No one really cares_ , Kyungsoo concluded, breathing in the sweet perfume. Jongin seemed surprised but eager to respond. He held Kyungsoo’s arm and pulled him close to kiss him deeper. Kyungsoo broke the kiss as soon as he realized that he wanted more than that.

“Go,” Kyungsoo put a distance between their bodies. “Don’t be late.”

Jongin was just staring at him, focused and tense. He looked like he wanted to share something but he didn’t. Instead, he licked his lips and nodded. Kyungsoo watched him leaving, excited and happy, collecting that memory.

He went after Chanyeol but they only found Sehun when the sun was rising. Kyungsoo didn’t mind that he went to bed so late and slept through the day.

.

He was just leaving the movie theater when he got the message and it was bad timing in so many ways.

First, Kyungsoo had a long week at work. His boss insisted that he should talk to the seafood distributors instead of going to the kitchen as he should. His coworkers always read this ‘almost-right-arm’ position of his as a privilege, but Kyungsoo didn’t feel like that. It felt like an extension of being in the army only with more responsibilities; in the end, Kyungsoo was just the guy who wasn’t ‘the’ chef yet. Second, his birthday was near and it meant that he had to submit to his friend’s ideas of fun because Kyungsoo could never be alone as he wanted to. His family had given a few gifts already, sensing that he wanted to spend his special day with ‘someone’ that didn’t exist. And third, Kyungsoo went to watch a movie that an old friend was starring – all by himself.

It was an invitation that sounded like an automatic message. 

> **_Hello, Jongin here! If you’re seeing this, come to my birthday! I really want you there. I’m sending you a link and a map so you can find the place easily! I don’t need a present but I’ll accept hugs~_ **

****

To make things worse, Kyungsoo not only found that Jongin was celebrating on the same Saturday that Chanyeol wanted to throw a party for Kyungsoo, but that he was younger than Kyungsoo.

“Twenty-seven,” Kyungsoo sighed. Well, no one ever believed Sehun was younger than him too.

He didn’t answer but he kept staring at the profile picture once in a while. Jongin was wearing a hat with bear ears and a bear sweater. Kyungsoo thought about the ripped keychain.

It’s not like Kyungsoo would go if he had the time. Jongin probably invited a ton of friends and maybe lovers, so it would be hilarious to go there and try to answer how they met and became ‘close’. Ridiculous. Jongin was being nice because he seemed to be nice.

Kyungsoo tried to help Chanyeol with the party, but he didn’t have the strength. Sehun even took care of Ink, that was nervous and barely eating lately. Kyungsoo worked and worked, driving long routes to fulfill every request.

“You seem distant later, hyung,” Sehun said.

“I don’t care about birthdays,” Kyungsoo argued.

“What do you care about?” Sehun asked seriously. 

Kyungsoo didn’t know. He was just trying his best in everything he could, trying to work hard and succeed in something. He wanted to be a good friend, also. Chanyeol was demanding about that, so Kyungsoo smiled wide enough when he entered a tiny pub decorated for his birthday party.

It was cozy and had tons of balloons. Chanyeol bought an expensive cake and called many of Kyungsoo’s friends, his actor friends, his coworkers, his school buddies…

He checked his watch. Ten o’clock. Jongin’s party was about to start and there he was, sitting on a cramped couch and talking about the time they were in a band in high school. Kyungsoo looked around, the pool table and the weak lights, the cold beer on his hand and the simple banner with his name. He shouldn’t complain so much. He really was in a good place, even if he wasn’t first place.

“Can I eat the cake?” He went after Chanyeol, asking for permission like a child.

Chanyeol turned to him, confused. _You know the rules, only midnight_ , he said with his eyes because, after all those years, they had that telepathic ability.

“I’m hungry,” Kyungsoo asked, but he knew he wasn’t. He wanted the sweet comfort of food to keep his body busy. It was bothering him – for some reason he couldn’t explain – that Jongin was somewhere having a good time in a better way than him and— maybe he knew the reason. Maybe it was because what happened between them was just an extraordinaire thing to happen on Kyungsoo’s boring life but it would probably just be another day in Jongin’s. It would be another unfairness that he couldn’t fix. And Kyungsoo wanted to send a ‘ _sorry I couldn’t go_ ’ because he was polite and he thought it would be the right thing and it would sound… pitiful. The guy who sucked him once in an airplane couldn’t make it to his birthday party.

“Okay,” Chanyeol said, worried. “Are you okay, Kyungsoo?”

“Yes,” he smiled.

He ate a slice but the feeling didn’t go anywhere. Kyungsoo fought himself and lost. A few minutes after midnight, when everyone was eating their own cakes, he essayed a message.

_Happy birthday! Sorry I couldn’t make it._

He deleted and rewrote it.

_Happy birthday._

His finger pressed send before he could regret. One of his new song obsessions started to play and Kyungsoo’s mind went blank. He kept jamming to that old ballad like it was his birthday gift.

.

He had a doctor's appointment about his hurt shoulder, an old problem that kept going back, so he didn’t have time to remember the previous night. He didn’t want to get late because it was a family doctor that was kind enough to see him on a Sunday. He checked his phone after he got home and finished feeding his dogs.

**_My real birthday is actually on the 14 th, on Tuesday. I will have to travel so I won’t be around so the party had to be on the 11th. _ **

Ah, Kyungsoo thought. He was expecting only a ‘thank you’. Kyungsoo had to be polite and apologize for not going but he wasn’t sure if he would say the truth. Telling Jongin about his birthday seemed oversharing.

_Sorry I couldn’t make it. I had a previous event scheduled._

Jongin answered immediately.

**_That’s sad :/ the party was awesome! But don’t worry, I was pretty late anyway. I should’ve warned everyone sooner._ **

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say after that. He kept doing his chores as nothing happened.

.

The last week of January seemed to last a month.

Kyungsoo’s shoulder was hurting and he had to stay away from the kitchen, taking the place of a manager around the restaurant. It seemed like destiny had given his boss the sign to make him his right hand after all and Kyungsoo had to spend all day long there, being the first to come in and the last to leave. He ate his leftovers in the work car and slept with his dogs. His twenties were heavier than he thought it would be, far from glamorous. He even had to buy a magazine that featured his boss, because, after all, it was his work too. They made a pun with his part of his name _Byung_. Kyungsoo just wished that he hadn’t a dry throat while reading about his Michelin stars.

A few pages later, a tiny surprise: Jongin.

It wasn’t advertising. It was just a picture of him at a party with friends in some European Country. One of those shots to promote things casually, probably. Kyungsoo read their names and ages, trying to figure out who they could be. The brown-haired girl was next to him again, smiling, leaning on his shoulder. Kyungsoo didn’t want to judge, so he sent the picture for a friend from the army who knew everything about celebrities. He used to bring gossip magazines and chat endlessly about news, pleased about the fact that Kyungsoo didn’t know any of them, ever.

_Do you know who they are?_

Unrelated to the detailed answer that he got, he warned Chanyeol and Sehun that they were going out to have fun.

.

It was useless, he realized – and too late to cancel. Chanyeol was singing and driving, wearing an old jumper, which meant that he wanted to have fun, not show off. Maybe Kyungsoo should be doing the same, instead of escaping from a prison to another.

“Next time you travel, take me with you,” Kyungsoo said simply.

“Yes,” Chanyeol screamed and accidentally honked. “Damn. Sorry. I’m just so happy that you’re refusing to get swallowed back to your shell.”

Kyungsoo smiled.

“Not that much,” Kyungsoo said. “Where’s Sehun?”

“Took like, two hours to get ready, I think,” Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “He’ll meet us there.”

“Good,” Kyungsoo said. He needed Sehun’s constant hugs and easy affection. “I had a tough day.”

“You just need to relax e enjoy more,” Chanyeol said. “I thought you were going to be happier now you’re working in such a nice place. You just know how to exhaust yourself every time, man, I don’t know. That’s not healthy and you know I’m obsessed about work…”

There was always a point where Kyungsoo stopped listening to Chanyeol. It was an awful old habit.

Thank god they didn’t go to a club or anything. It was just a place for drinking, where Kyungsoo could laugh and drink until passing out. Sehun was already there and he asked for a private room, which fitted his introvert ways. It was so easy, he felt, to be around his friends. Kyungsoo liked trying new things, but the old ones were better. He stuck to things, habits, and feelings for a long time, struggling to let them go. It was the first time in a long, long time that he wished that he had a relationship, a partner to enjoy the quietness of life. He wanted a simple, steady kind of love.

“I’m going to pee,” Kyungsoo announced, standing up. “Don’t drink my beer.”

“Can’t make promises,” Chanyeol hiccupped. Kyungsoo stepped out of the carpet, opened the door and put his shoes on. It was crowded outside, full of people laughing and screaming. Kyungsoo tried not to bump into them but he failed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled while walking. “I’m really sorry.”

He found the restroom and there was even a line. A really tall man was waiting, holding a red cup in his hands. Kyungsoo waited behind him and then the man turned back and stared. He was looking at Kyungsoo like humans look at curious little animals.

“What are you doing there?” The man asked.

“Waiting,” Kyungsoo pointed to the bathroom.

“Oh,” the man moved a little, allowing Kyungsoo to get in. “I’m just waiting to see if my friend is fine. I think that he was throwing up.”

Kyungsoo thought about the bathroom with vomit around and he turned around almost unconsciously, leaving the place. He went to the nearest store, bought water and used their restroom. When he returned, he chased after the tall guy and gave him the bottle.

“For your friend,” Kyungsoo said.

The tall guy looked at him, smiling and well, he was gorgeous. Kyungsoo didn’t see his long dark hair and his nice physique.

“Thank you,” he said. “Come sit with us.”

There was a group of men and women talking and drinking and plenty of food.

“I’ll have to pass, I’m here with my friends too,” Kyungsoo said. The guy held his wrist and put a tiny paper on his pocket. Kyungsoo got it.

“Do you have condoms with you?” Kyungsoo asked as soon as he opened the door.

“Yes,” Chanyeol said. “I keep them in my car. Why?”

“Give me your keys,” Kyungsoo asked.

.

Kyungsoo opened his eyes and jumped off the bed. It was still dawn, but he didn’t want to overstay. He was in a nice place in the town and he knew how to get back home by himself. He dressed neatly and checked if he didn’t forget anything before leaving. It felt so impersonally good that he decided to find any place still open to stay just a bit more; he wouldn’t get enough sleep not even if he tried, so he would just take a shower and leave to work.

Kyungsoo felt lighter. He was really complicating something that was so easy. People didn’t overthink sex as much as he did. Sehun would use those apps with dicks and butts like a menu, Chanyeol would have one-night stands and then forget from how meaningless it was; in the army, the men complained about not getting laid, mostly because they were rushing to get married and, to be honest, just a few of them were barely tolerable. Kyungsoo wasn’t a celebrity of any sorts but men were interested in him and he knew it very well, so, why was he being so dull?

He sat at the first bar he found, fixing his coat, eyes on his phone. He wasn’t checking his messages later and he found Jongin’s last one.

**_Are you free this week?_ **

Sent on Tuesday, three days before. Kyungsoo didn’t even think before answering.

_Friday or Saturday._

Maybe if he did with Jongin what he just had done with a random man he met then he would forget what happened between them. He simply couldn’t understand why that thing was bothering him so much. Surprisingly, Jongin answered despite the odd time.

**_Friday is a great day for me. Do you mind if we stay in? I have a place that I use for hiding. Don’t tell anyone!!!!!_ **

_Don’t worry, I won’t._

**_Good, sending you the location. Ah, are you allergic to anything?_ **

Small talk, Kyungsoo thought bitterly.

_No._

**_Great! See you…_ **

****

.

When Kyungsoo was twenty, Chanyeol found out that he smoked. No one even suspected, of course. Kyungsoo always smelled good, never gave anyone a reason to think that he, once in a while, smoked a cigarette. He could smoke less than a pack every year, he wasn’t an addict. It only happened after something really good and terrible or in cold moments like those, so of course, Kyungsoo got himself a cigarette when he left the bar. 

Chanyeol was waiting for him, even if he was clearly working with his guitar, sprawled on Kyungsoo’s couch.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo said as he was surrounded by his dogs. “What happened?”

Chanyeol made the exact same face that he did when he found out Kyungsoo’s Marlboros in his closet, which was curious since he was staring at Kyungsoo’s face and not at the single unlit cigarette between his fingers.

“I would ask the same thing,” Chanyeol kept playing. “If I didn’t know it would be useless to ask.”

Kyungsoo sighed and closed the door.

“I just had sex,” he mumbled. “Is that weird?”

“A little, but that’s not why I’m concerned,” Chanyeol sat straight, relaxing his shoulders. “You know if a random guy kills you in his house then I’ll have to explain to your mother and damn, I don’t want to out you.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Kyungsoo snorted. “You do the same and I never complain.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but I don’t think that anyone I ever hooked up with could barely kill me,” Chanyeol pointed. “Please, tell me if something is wrong. Last night was really weird.”

It was and Kyungsoo was aware of that. Everything was weird since—

“Well, I’m going home now that I know that you’re fine,” Chanyeol yawned.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo said, serious. Chanyeol turned his whole body to look at him. “When I figure out what’s wrong, I’ll tell you.”

Chanyeol smiled and nodded.

“Thanks,” he said before leaving.

.

Jongin’s secret apartment wasn’t in a secret area. It was one of those tiny, functional apartments that were the new single way of living, perfect for the overworking never-at-home-people. Kyungsoo understood it, really, even if he preferred the old buildings with space and… life. Everything was beige or pastel, modern but tasteless. Jongin opened the door before Kyungsoo rang the bell.

“Hello,” he said, smiling. He was wearing a long white t-shirt and comfortable pants.

“Hello,” Kyungsoo said, adjusting his cap. As he predicted, he didn’t feel weird or anything; Jongin stared at him and his mind was filled with the most pornographic thoughts, it was all.

“Come in,” Jongin giggled. He was using bear slippers and oven gloves. “I was just— well, get comfortable.”

It was cramped and empty, just a bunch of things laying around. He was messy, Kyungsoo realized and he didn’t mind at all.

“I was baking a cake,” Jongin said.

Kyungsoo sat on the couch and grunted. Jongin took his gloves off and looked at him expectantly.

“Are you done?” Kyungsoo asking, taking his cap off his head. The light was weak for a space that engulfed the kitchen and living room.

“Yes,” Jongin said and then seemed to realize why Kyungsoo asked that. “Ah, you’re in a hurry?”

“Not really,” Kyungsoo gulped. “But where’s your room?”

Jongin blinked, surprised. He probably wasn’t expecting Kyungsoo to go straight to the point – but Kyungsoo had his reasons to do it and it wasn’t because he was horny, no, it was, again, hyper-rational.

 _There_ , Jongin pointed to the biggest door, which was obvious, but Kyungsoo didn’t want to assume. He walked in without asking anything else, expecting Jongin to take a hint. His room was cozy and crowded with plushies and gifts, probably modified to look bigger. Kyungsoo sat on his bed and waited.

Jongin stood on the door, inspecting his guest. His stare burned on Kyungsoo’s skin.

“There’s something about you,” he said, kicking his slippers away. “It drives me crazy, really.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t breathe for a second. That wasn’t something that he was expecting to hear; his words were as heavy as his eyes. It disturbed him, so he started to undress, rushing Jongin, sending a clear message. He turned back to put his folded pants on the floor, Jongin held him gently, gluing their bodies together. The tip of his nose touched Kyungsoo’s shoulder and went to his neck and Kyungsoo got chills, shaking a little and repressing a moan. _He’s barely touching me,_ he noticed, _and I’m on the edge._ Jongin’s fingers pushed his underwear down slowly, letting it fall on the floor. Kyungsoo leaned his head back, allowing Jongin to have access to his neck; Kyungsoo was anticipating so much that he bit his lips to not make any sound.

“This is not fair,” Jongin whispered against his neck. “I’m dying to hear you.”

Kyungsoo was tired of this endless teasing, so he turned back. Jongin held his shoulders this time and, in a gentle gesture, pushed him back to the bed. Kyungsoo lay down easily but still alert. Jongin wanted to put on a show, undressing calmly. Kyungsoo was getting drunk on the sight of him – they met in such a confusing situation, never having the benefit of seeing each other clearly.

Kyungsoo couldn’t stop gulping, his throat was dry. Of course, he knew Jongin was handsome, that he had an attractive body, but now he was taken by the details, his flawless skin, the way he moved just like he was made of water, flowing. There wasn’t a thing on Jongin’s being that made him uneasy, he wanted to swallow him whole, lick him from head to toe, just— regular sex didn’t feel enough and Kyungsoo was completely conscious that it hadn't even started.

Jongin crawled over him, only stopping when their breaths were mingling. He licked his plump, glossy lips like he was feeling the exact the same thing and Kyungsoo wanted to laugh because well, _this is chemistry_ , this is what they talked about when they were in rehearsals, planning their roles, this deep desire to kiss someone like you were hungry for it.

They kissed.

Kyungsoo pulled him down and loved the sound of it, the pressure against his body. Jongin kissed him with open mouth and tongue and Kyungsoo never hesitated, grabbing skin, grinding on him. They were sweating already, in the middle of the cold room, and it felt natural. Kyungsoo felt how hard they were and he wanted to touch it but Jongin found a way to hold both wrists in such a delicate way that he didn’t want to break the contact.

“You’re the rushing type?” Jongin giggled, staring at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Kyungsoo didn’t want that. He wanted to get rid of that horniness, he wanted to stop wanting that man _that much_.

Jongin sat up, defeated by Kyungsoo’s silence and left the bed casually. Kyungsoo would touch himself, jerk off to that view, glistening body and hard pulsing dick, but it felt like a waste. He came with condoms and tiny sacks and Kyungsoo was relieved that he finally understood it.

“I’m okay with anything,” Jongin said quietly, sitting on the bed again. “But there was a reason why I kept walking behind you at that airport.”

Kyungsoo snorted. The tailor said that the pants were too tight. He turned back and exposed himself as a treat. He liked the way it made Jongin’s grin disappear.

“You’re just—” he took a deep breath, gulping. “So effortlessly hot.”

Kyungsoo was too horny so he kept grinding on the bed. There was something so sexy about the way that Jongin’s fingers were putting the condom, ripping the sack, _glossy, sticky_.

Kyungsoo moaned, loud, when he put the first finger in, an _aaaah_ that echoed on the walls. Jongin was breathing faster like there was no air in the room.

“Good,” Kyungsoo mumbled when he had three fingers in. The hand moved inside him at the same rhythm that he was moving his hips. Jongin leaned over him and Kyungsoo’s hands were shaking. He felt the way the fingers slide off and held his breath.

He made a guttural noise when Jongin slid in, a full-body shiver. That seemed to be what the other was expecting.

“Your voice, I swear,” he muttered, panting. “I would get off on that alone.”

Kyungsoo pushed his hips back as an answer and Jongin hugged him in a way that made their bodies fit together. Every movement seemed to reach exactly where Kyungsoo was too weak.

“Go hard,” Kyungsoo asked. “I’m not made of paper.”

Jongin seemed to listen very well because Kyungsoo had to grab the sheets for support. It was just the complete environment to fuck him up, the sound of their hips, the tiny pants, the constant touching and well, the way he was being stretched, open, hitting his prostate over and over again. _He knows what he’s doing,_ was Kyungsoo’s last thought before he let out a long moan, wetting Jongin’s mattress. He came untouched and it was supposed to be uncomfortably good, but he just rolled his eyes back and enjoyed.

Jongin slid off him while still being hard. Kyungsoo, basking in the glow, turned to him and watched how he took the condom off.

“If it’s not much to ask,” he panted. “Can I see your face this time?”

Kyungsoo almost laughed.

“Of course,” he said, satisfied, crawling to him. Jongin was sitting on knees, legs slightly apart, so Kyungsoo just held his tights and licked his dick before sucking it, letting it hit against his cheek. Jongin leaned back to watch and Kyungsoo stared deeply in his eyes, tongue moving on top.

“You’re just too much,” Jongin said, completely resigned.

Kyungsoo did it right, getting horny again like he hadn’t just come. The way Jongin came pleased him the most, his facial expression showing defeat and pleasure. He swallowed loudly and enjoyed the view.

“Come inside this time,” Kyungsoo suggested.

Jongin looked at him, shaking his head. “You’re too much, too much.”

.

_Times flies when you’re having fun_ , Kyungsoo thought, staring at the clock on the wall, right above Jongin’s bed. They were both tired, but Jongin was still jerking him off after Kyungsoo had finished and it send him weird electric waves down his body.

“Done,” Kyungsoo fell on the bed, right beside him. His legs were sticky, loose. Jongin’s wet hair was everywhere, his forehead, his pillow and also up like he had been electrocuted.

“Hey,” he smiled. “What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

Kyungsoo was surprised.

“It’s because you look like it was hurt,” Jongin showed how Kyungsoo moved it.

“It’s hurt,” Kyungsoo said. “But it’s an old thing. I didn’t get hurt here.”

“Oh,” Jongin blinked. “I see. What happened?”

“Nothing scary,” Kyungsoo touched it unconsciously. “Repetitive movement, back in the Army.”

“Oh, god. You,” Jongin pressed his lips into a line and looked away. “I can’t picture you like a soldier right now. I’m tired.”

Kyungsoo giggled.

“Was it while shooting?” Jongin wanted to touch him, but his hand was dirty. “I don’t see any scar.”

“No, it was cooking,” Kyungsoo smiled. “It’s not that serious, really.”

“I’m just scared of bones and pain,” Jongin laughed. “I went through three surgeries to fix bones.”

“In your back,” Kyungsoo remembered the white line. Jongin gaped.

“Yeah,” he said. “My hips too.”

There was something about the way he spoke that made Kyungsoo curious.

“I fell like any other kid,” Jongin explained quickly. “But I did ballet when it happened, so I tried to fix my bones to keep dancing. The back surgery actually helped me with the pain, but my hips are still damaged.”

“Really? It looked fine,” Kyungsoo grinned.

Jongin laughed hard, pressing his head against the pillow.

“I can do anything just fine,” he said, still smiling for a second or two. “It’s just like ballet is for perfectionists and if you have just a thing that makes you slightly not flawless, they don’t want you. Also, I could break my hips under a daily routine like I used to have.”

“So you’re not a dancer anymore,” Kyungsoo said.

“No, but I don’t mind. I guess we’re never what we dream to be when we’re little,” he shrugged. “We have to sell our dreams.”

Kyungsoo thought about his own job.

“Yes,” he said and reality hit him back, waking him up. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He expected Jongin to be at least surprised.

“Yes,” Jongin yawned. “It’s an open relationship, like people call nowadays. Non-monogamic arrangement.”

Kyungsoo didn’t react and maybe that was why Jongin was worried.

“I’m not cheating on anyone,” he explained again. “She moved to another country and suggested that, so it’s mutual…”

To prove whatever he was trying to convince Kyungsoo of – because clearly Kyungsoo didn’t need to be convinced, he didn’t say that Jongin was lying –, he showed Kyungsoo a picture of hers that was on the back of his phone, inside the transparent case.

It wasn’t the girl that Kyungsoo thought it would be.

She had darker hair and a famous, recognizable face, but it wasn’t the girl with the red dress that his friend from the army suggested that was Jongin’s pair. Actually, Jongin’s girlfriend was prettier, in his opinion. But none of that mattered because that wasn’t what Kyungsoo expected. He wished Jongin was actually cheating, that this was just a disruptive event that both would regret and eventually would keep them apart. Kyungsoo could tell himself _he’s a cheater_ and then feel morally wrong for wanting him. He would have a big reason to be angry, to walk away.

But now, he hated _himself_ , not Jongin. Because there he was, fucking a dude that had a girlfriend and probably some other lovers casually, being needy about a guy while he was just another one in a line and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself – everyone was okay but him, apparently.

It dissolved the lust, erased the magic between them.

“Ah,” Kyungsoo said, pretending not to care. “She’s pretty. You’re lucky.”

Jongin didn’t look convinced, so he threw his phone on the bed, sitting up.

“I made a cake,” he said absently. “For you.”

Kyungsoo felt naked and dirty; he just wanted a shower.

“I’m leaving,” he announced, getting out of the bed. He could have essayed some excuse like _I need to feed my dogs_ or _my friends need me_ but he wasn’t going to explain himself for a guy that he just fucked. It was obvious that he was going to leave sooner or later.

“It’s carrot cake,” Jongin kept saying like he hadn’t heard Kyungsoo. “Ah, but you’re a cook, aren’t you? Then maybe you won’t like because I’m not a professional, but I tried my best. I can’t cook at my parent’s house because I make a mess and I break things and my mother scolds me when I break something. She’s good at cooking, also. Her cakes sell well.”

“No, thank you,” he said when Jongin stopped babbling, already dressed. Being in the army taught him how to do it in less than a minute. “I’m going to get my shoes.”

He left the room and he still could see Jongin sitting on the bed.

“I have coffee too,” Jongin said quietly. “We could talk.”

Kyungsoo didn’t have the patience anymore, so he just sighed.

“Keep it to someone else,” he said and he didn’t realize how it sounded. In his mind, he was being polite. Jongin covered his crotch with the blanket and shrank in size. _Oh,_ Kyungsoo gulped but instead of explaining himself, he just nodded and left, desperate for a cigarette.

.

“This couch cost a lot,” Sehun sat next to Kyungsoo. Their studio was a lot cozier than it used to be. It was easy to point who bought each thing, who chose the colors and the equipment because Sehun and Chanyeol had complementary tastes.

“It’s nice,” Kyungsoo said politely and he didn’t want to know how much, of course.

“Which song was your favorite?” Sehun asked expectantly.

Kyungsoo stared at the screen. There were three of them, each one of them connected to giant boxes; he had no idea how to use those things.

“I guess… the first one, I remember it very well,” Kyungsoo said.

“I knew it, it’s the calmest,” Sehun smiled.

Kyungsoo was happy to keep company to Sehun when he had to work alone at the weekend. Sehun didn’t like to be alone and they had a good time, anyway. Music always brought them together.

He got a message.

**_Hey! I’m back in the city. I have tickets for a baseball game. Wanna come with me?_ **

Kyungsoo had to check twice if it was really Jongin.

_Not a sports fan._

It had been almost a month since they saw each other in his apartment. Kyungsoo didn’t expect him to call or send a message and honestly, he didn’t mind either. It’s not like he regretted; sometimes he was assaulted by the memories and it was overwhelming. What really made him think that it wouldn’t happen again was that he was a little jerk, he noticed, even if he truly believed that it was necessary for them to establish some distance. And then… a baseball game?

**_Oh, okay. Can you come to my place?_ **

Kyungsoo sighed way too loud.

“So, what’s his name?” Sehun asked casually.

“I can’t tell,” he mumbled.

“I can help you,” Sehun said. “I can keep secrets.”

Kyungsoo considered it, really, allowing Sehun to side hug him.

“Would you have a sexual relationship with someone who already has a relationship?” He asked. “No cheating involved.”

“Yes,” Sehun answered quickly. “Well, wait. Is the sex worth it?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo nodded. “Definitely.”

“Do you think that you have developed feelings?”

“Not really,” Kyungsoo thought out loud. “I barely know him.”

Sehun rubbed his face on Kyungsoo’s sweater gently.

“Go for it,” Sehun laughed. “Go get your big guy who looks tough but it’s actually very sensitive.”

“What?” Kyungsoo almost jumped.

“Chanyeol’s theory, hyung, don’t you remember? That we fall in love with someone like our best friends,” Sehun giggled. “That’s not love, but… that’s your type, right? Like us.”

“Maybe,” Kyungsoo mumbled. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes, it does. My type is older people who take care of me and Chanyeol loves people who ignore him,” Sehun said simply. “If you think about, you see that it does make sense.”

“Hm,” Kyungsoo grunted. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

**_I’ll make hot chocolate this time!!!_ **

_._

Kyungsoo went to Jongin’s apartment three times: Friday, Saturday and Sunday. On Friday, they fucked on the couch and Jongin really impressed Kyungsoo by being very good at oral sex, even if he ran away to the bathroom to spit. Kyungsoo came back on Sunday, in the middle of the evening before Jongin had to leave and they had a quickie in the shower – that’s when Kyungsoo realized how much Jongin loved to dirty talk. On Sunday, he went in the middle of the night and left for work.

It was maddening.

Jongin had this soft way to ask before he did anything while he had the nerve to fuck Kyungsoo’s brains. There was this softness that lived on his strong body and his smile was childish and bright, contrasting with the rest of him. Kyungsoo couldn’t find one thing to hate, except that maybe, Jongin had other people and he didn’t hide at all, tiny notes on his place like he wanted Kyungsoo to know.

Before leaving to work on Monday, Kyungsoo stared at him while sleeping. He really was pretty as a movie star; some people were just made to shine.

Kyungsoo knew that he was walking on thin ice. He knew the scars on Jongin’s hips by heart. He smiled at his bear obsession and the poor condition of his books. As he walked through the streets, he saw the book that Jongin was reading and then stopped. Kyungsoo shouldn’t be getting familiar, but well, he did. But at least he was back to the kitchen, no more giving orders when he was no boss. He hated the assistant position because he had the responsibilities but not many benefits. He preferred to cook.

**_I’m coming back on Thursday! 6 o'clock?_ **

He sent a picture this time. It was just him standing in front of a mirror and wearing the short tops that he liked to wear and made Kyungsoo confused.

_Going after work, probably at 10’._

**_I’ll wait, then ~_ **

It was alarming how he was excited by Wednesday. At this point, he just needed a random trigger to remember how good it felt to be with Jongin. Kyungsoo tried to focus but he was anticipating, giving himself the pleasure of smoking at home, trying hard to get distracted.

Jongin was waiting for him at the door wearing only underwear and slippers.

“Hello,” he said. “It’s cold, get in!”

Kyungsoo walked in and Jongin leaned for a kiss. He gladly accepted it and couldn’t hide his disappointment when Jongin just… gave him a peck on the lips.

“What?” Jongin giggled. “I want to talk to you.”

“Then don’t kiss me,” Kyungsoo grunted, going to the couch. “Talk.”

But Jongin didn’t talk for a while, closing the door and sitting down; now he was the one who looked disappointed.

“So?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Baekhyun gave me tickets to his concert and I can’t come back in time,” Jongin said quietly. “Maybe you would like to go…? Do you know Baekhyun, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Kyungsoo snorted. “He’s very famous. I guess my mom is his fan.”

Jongin’s eyes sparkled. It was cute.

“Really? I can get you two seats if you want to go with her,” he said, excited.

“That would be nice,” Kyungsoo smiled and then realized that technically, this was a gift. “Thank you.”

Jongin seemed much happier than Kyungsoo. His hair was now a light brown, long and he looked healthier, traveling made him look better.

“Are you two friends?” Kyungsoo asked, trying to interrupt that odd aura.

“Yes,” Jongin nodded. “We’ve been friends for eight years now. I always get his albums, in case if you’re interested. He signs them, kisses… he’s… a funny guy.”

Kyungsoo thought about his own friends.

“Would you call him your best friend?”

Jongin was pleasantly surprised by the question. He held his knees and stared at Kyungsoo, smiling, thinking about the answer like he was being interviewed by a famous person.

“I don’t know,” he bit his lip. “I have tons of friends but I guess that I’m always changing my best friend among them. I have more than one…”

Kyungsoo thought bitterly that Chanyeol’s theory was right.

“… but right now I guess it’s him,” Jongin kept talking, distracted. “He has my back. Baekhyun is really sincere, you know. I would say that he says the truth too often… but he’s kind and steady. All my other friends are really crazy, Baekhyun is my rock.”

Kyungsoo was silent and Jongin went back to that deep staring that made Kyungsoo so uncomfortable. He gulped, straining his neck.

“I wished you answer my questions, you know,” Jongin said.

“I do,” Kyungsoo frowned, slightly offended.

“With more than three words,” Jongin corrected.

Kyungsoo didn’t do on purpose. He was still shy around Jongin, they weren’t that close. After all, he tended to be monosyllabic even around his friends when he was tired. Jongin must have sensed that Kyungsoo didn’t like that conversation and moved to hug him.

“Sorry I’m bitter,” Jongin said, embracing him. Kyungsoo had already forgotten what was wrong when he kissed his neck. It was so easy to give up, to let his body being taken by Jongin’s flowy gestures. Kyungsoo kissed him on the mouth and it was as good as the first time.

Jongin, as always, wasn’t in a hurry despite being so intense. Kyungsoo wanted to rip his underwear, to get naked too, but Jongin just held his hands and lifted them over their heads.

“Wait,” he whispered against Kyungsoo’s mouth. “I like when your lips are really red.”

Kyungsoo gave it but he was aware that there was something different. Jongin claimed to be an _intuitive person_ but Kyungsoo wasn’t much different.

“I missed you,” Jongin said when they got in bed.

Kyungsoo kissed him quiet, eyes closed. No matter how hard he tried to make himself distant, those words made him feel good. _Dirty talk,_ Kyungsoo told himself. _That’s just dirty talking._

But the dirty talk was really weird that night.

“You do things to me,” he panted in Kyungsoo’s ear. “I’ve been thinking about this the whole time—that I wanted to have you here—”

It didn’t feel _spicy_ enough and Kyungsoo was enjoying taking a dick in his ass, so, he just wanted to relax and enjoy and not to think about that.

“Don’t be quiet,” Jongin pleaded. “I’ve been dying to hear your voice. I wanted to call—”

He came in the middle of his sentence and Kyungsoo pushed him away after as if he wanted to repeal the words too. Jongin almost rolled away in bed, shocked. It could be funny, Kyungsoo thought, if they weren’t both startled.

Jongin gulped, panting. The condom was white, dripping, and he didn’t look like he just had an orgasm. Kyungsoo was aching inside.

“What… did I do?” Jongin asked. “Are you okay?”

Kyungsoo felt something odd in that sequence of questions.

“You did nothing,” Kyungsoo sat up with his dick half hard in sight. “I’m sleepy.”

It was a weak excuse, they both knew.

“Okay,” Jongin nodded weakly. “Let’s take a bath and sleep.”

Kyungsoo searched for the clock. It was early, barely midnight.

“I’ll go home,” he said, unsure.

“Why? To waste time?” Jongin sighed, annoyed. “You don’t have to. If you need to take a bath by yourself, I’ll be here.”

Kyungsoo left the bed and picked his things on the couch. The door was still open, so he could see how Jongin was staring at the ceiling, how the Adam’s apple was moving. He took a long shower and went to bed wearing nothing and Jongin did the same after. When they were in bed, wet and covered, Jongin asked again, 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo lied, closing his eyes. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Jongin’s voice was sweet.

The silence that came after that was healing. Kyungsoo had a light sleep that night, waking up many times. When his alarm went off, Jongin was so close that he was breathing on Kyungsoo’s hair.

Kyungsoo stood up and left the bed cautiously, trying not to wake him up by accident. Jongin’s phone was on the floor, so Kyungsoo picked it up. The picture inside the case was there, surrounded by a ton of heart stickers. Kyungsoo threw the phone on the couch and took a look around.

 _This is the last time_ , he swore before closing the door.

.

He spent the following weekend with Chanyeol’s family. Chanyeol himself was traveling, but his mother always treated Kyungsoo like her own son, so Kyungsoo spared time to spend with them. Kyungsoo’s week was going well. His English classes were fun and he liked to cook his thoughts away. His actor circle of friends asked him out and he drank beer with them. Jongin didn’t send any messages, only an email with the tickets that he promised. Those were easy days.

Chanyeol came back wearing a bear sweater. Kyungsoo winced without noticing.

“Ok, I know it’s childish,” Chanyeol laughed, fitting his bags on the back seat. “But it’s cute, right?”

“No,” Kyungsoo said. 

“Next time you’ll be coming with me,” Chanyeol said. “Like you said you wanted to. Let’s go to Japan, huh? We can eat all day long, just like you love to do.”

“Fine.”

When Chanyeol finally sat on the passenger’s seat, he stared at Kyungsoo.

“Did your mysterious dick appointments end?” He asked, winking.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said, unaffected.

Not for Jongin, apparently.

**_I’ll be back on Friday. Maybe we could go watch a movie? I’ve been dying to watch a comedy… life is too sad…_ **

_Sorry, I can’t._

He didn’t try to find excuses anymore. _No, sorry._ That was all. Kyungsoo wasn’t trying to be mean. He just wanted to put an end to this without exposing himself. He didn’t even know how to express how he felt, why this mattered at all. Once in a while, he couldn’t help but feel dumb, rejecting a good time because he was bothered by Jongin’s relationship status. Kyungsoo could date too, he could have other lovers and yet he couldn’t help but get mad because he wasn’t the only one. Jongin sent a few messages for a couple of weeks, then, it seemed, he took a hint. March was longer because of that.

It changed in the first week of April.

Kyungsoo was cutting carrots and he wasn’t a great fan of them, but the recipe was clear: seven carrots. The tv was on and two of his coworkers were babbling but he was focused, watching the orange against the marble, _chop, chop, chop_.

“Your phone, Kyungsoo,” someone said.

Kyungsoo wouldn’t interrupt his task because of messages but he felt like reading them to escape the carrots. He wiped his hands on his apron, fixed the crocs on his feet and picked a cigarette before locking himself in the bathroom. He was smoking, completely dressed and sitting on the toilet when he saw the picture that Jongin sent.

He was lying on a pool chair and the picture showed only his body. He was completely naked, skin glowing under the sun, absolutely gorgeous. Kyungsoo let the cigarette fall from his hands, mouth dry.

He went back to the carrots, trying to forget. _Why does he affect me so much,_ he kept asking himself. It wasn’t fair. Kyungsoo, the most rational man on earth, was being controlled by his body’s lowest desires. He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t make healthier decisions, he was smoking almost daily, forgetting to eat. Maybe he just—

He felt the pain but what really caught his attention was the screaming.

“Your hand!”

Kyungsoo blinked and stared at his hand. Between marble and orange, a growing red taint. Kyungsoo was numb, looking at the knife between his fingers, the blood running and then finally, a white towel engulfing his hand. The blood found a way to escape, to taint the towel too, there was nothing that could stop it.


	2. and I can't get rid of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol looked at the rear mirror, then started the engine.
> 
> “That’s honestly so ironic that I’m not even angry,” he shrugged. “Karma is real.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> split the last chapter in two, it's becoming longer than expected

.

Sehun raised the chopsticks and Kyungsoo ate the caramelized onions. Sehun was happy to celebrate his birthday a week later and Kyungsoo was glad that his hand was healing well. He lost too much blood – the kitchen looked like a crime scene. His boss walked in with wide eyes; his coworkers had told him and Kyungsoo believed them because the famous chef Byungjin went to a hospital just to give him a raise. Not even in the army, Kyungsoo was that hurt; the cut was too deep. It seemed that the blood made his boss realize that Kyungsoo was overworking and he made Kyungsoo rest for a couple of days. In the end, Kyungsoo went back to talk to people, give orders and being away from the kitchen.

“What are you complaining about?” Chanyeol was tired. “I mean, you work in Gaon, the best restaurant around.”

“I’m not complaining,” Kyungsoo complained.

“You can use your hand now,” Chanyeol slapped his arm. “Sehun doesn’t need to feed you.”

“I’m doing it because I want to,” Sehun shrugged. “If you want me to feed you too, you just have to ask.”

Kyungsoo laughed when Chanyeol opened his mouth immediately. Sehun liked big parties but he wanted to spend his birthday alone, which of course, hurt Chanyeol. To compensate for it, they decided to go out to eat when they were all free. Kyungsoo chose a new place that was considered ‘competition’ among the top restaurants and he didn’t regret his choice.

“There’s a lot of celebrities around,” Sehun blinked.

“See, Kyungsoo, another benefit,” Chanyeol pointed. They were there due to his boss’ reservation. “Now we can make famous friends.”

“We live in a small place,” Kyungsoo said bitterly. “Any expensive restaurant is full of celebrities. That’s just trendy.”

There were celebrities at Gaon every week and Kyungsoo wasn’t fond of them.

“We have a gig,” Sehun announced suddenly like he had just remembered. “Did you tell Kyungsoo, Chanyeol?”

“Oh, no, I forgot,” Chanyeol scratched his head. He looked sleepy, tucked in a thin white shirt. It was hotter and hotter outside, so he had the perfect excuse to show his biceps and laugh about Kyungsoo’s undershirts. “We’ll present at a party with a couple of friends.”

“I’ll include that song that you liked,” Sehun said gently.

“Ah, that’s nice,” Kyungsoo said. It was clear that he wouldn’t attend, not only because of his hand. “I hope that you have fun.”

He touched the light bandage over the cut. It wasn’t hurting anymore, but he had to be careful with the stitches. Chanyeol started to talk about something but Sehun seemed to be distracted, looking over Kyungsoo’s shoulders since they were facing each other.

“Be discreet,” he said casually, grabbing his chopsticks. “There’s a man who keeps staring and he’s not being subtle at all. Do you guys know who he is?”

It was too late, Chanyeol had turned his face so fast that the rice on the corner of his mouth fell on Kyungsoo’s beer.

“He doesn’t even blink,” Chanyeol laughed, even after Sehun slapped him. “Can’t he see that we’re staring back?”

“He’s not staring at us,” Sehun said, repressing a grin. “He’s actually focused on Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo didn’t look because he liked to mind his business. Sehun was a secret gossiper and Chanyeol was very interested in everyone’s life but Kyungsoo didn’t pay attention to what didn’t matter. He sat straight, fixing his posture and asked himself if that could be that guy that he slept with once. He kept sending messages but Kyungsoo didn’t want to meet him yet – he was hurt and moody.

“Tall guy, pink sweater, dark hair, does it ring a bell?” Chanyeol asked.

Kyungsoo sighed and turned back, knowing that he couldn’t escape.

It was Jongin, of course. Standing on the door while a shorter guy in black clothes and a fishing hat was talking to the manager, he was the easiest person to spot in that place. The sweater was tight, glued to his body and he was wearing a purse that looked like it belonged to his mother. He needed a few seconds to process that Kyungsoo was looking back at him. Kyungsoo didn’t expect Jongin to acknowledge him after that night, but he was wrong. Jongin waved weakly.

Kyungsoo turned back and faced his plate. “I know him.”

“Oh,” Sehun was amused. “So, is this the guy?”

“The guy,” Chanyeol repeated slowly. “What guy?”

Kyungsoo glared at Sehun. Chanyeol was naïve but not _that much_ and his face fell when he realized that Sehun knew something that he didn’t.

“Who is he, Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol crossed his arms. “I swear for god if you two—”

“Let’s just forget it,” Kyungsoo pleaded. “I’ll tell you later.”

It was useless. Chanyeol stood up quickly, almost turning the tiny table with his force. Sehun kept having fun because he loved it when Chanyeol entered his competitive mode but Kyungsoo was panicking right beside them.

“Hey,” Chanyeol waved. “Come here!”

“Don’t make a scene,” Kyungsoo tugged his friend's pants, desperate. “Chanyeol, no!”

He glanced back and Jongin was pointing to himself, confused.

“Yes, yes, you,” Chanyeol said. “And your friend too!”

The fishing hat guy turned to see which crazy stranger was screaming. Kyungsoo didn’t want to see anything anymore, so he stared at his plate and promised himself he would beat Chanyeol to death as soon as they left.

“He’s so embarrassing,” Sehun said, grabbing his glass like he had nothing to do with it. The worst part was that Kyungsoo recognized Jongin’s perfume before he even said something.

“Ah,” a stranger’s voice said, mocking. “If you’re inviting us, are you going to pay?”

“No, because it’s Sehunnie’s birthday, hey—aren’t you famous,” Chanyeol was shocked. “Ah, you asshole. You’re rich.”

“I have money but Jongin eats too much, he’s the worst,” the stranger said and he sat down immediately, next to Kyungsoo. “I hate to wait for food, can I have some of yours?”

He was talking to Kyungsoo, that moved his head slowly towards him.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said, facing no one else but Byun Baekhyun, the same face that was glued everywhere around town.

He took his fishing hat off and smiled. “I’m betting that you’re Kyungsoo.”

“You’re right,” Kyungsoo said. “Nice to meet you. My mother is a fan of yours.”

“I love noona fans,” Baekhyun pushed his dyed hair back and threw an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Have you attended the concert?”

Kyungsoo gulped. Sehun slapped Baekhyun’s hands away because he was sure that Kyungsoo’s discomfort was due to the touching – he didn’t know that Baekhyun just casually threw information that he thought that only Jongin knew.

“You can sit down,” Chanyeol said to Jongin, that was standing next to the table like a fool. Sehun moved to the side, allowing Jongin to sit parallel to Kyungsoo. Sehun was as bad as Chanyeol when he wanted to.

“No, my brother went,” Kyungsoo said, straining his neck. “Thanks for the tickets.”

“Ah, my pleasure,” Baekhyun winked. At this point, even Kyungsoo noticed how Jongin was glaring at his friend. “Don’t look at me this way, nini… go take your painkillers and let me eat, I’m starving.”

“I’m going to ask for more plates and glasses,” Chanyeol said, leaving like he was in a pub. Kyungsoo’s lack of patience had transcended every limit and, ironically, he was almost calm.

“Sorry,” Jongin mumbled. He didn’t have to say anything else; it was obvious that he was apologizing to Kyungsoo.

“Nah, sorry about Chanyeol,” Sehun said, sensing that Kyungsoo couldn’t speak. “He’s just jealous because Kyungsoo loves me more.”

Jongin was obviously confused. He kept glancing at Kyungsoo, his fingers fidgeting with the napkins, gulping. Baekhyun was eyeing the menu, the food, ignoring the weird tension on the table. Kyungsoo wanted to smoke, but he couldn’t, so he grabbed his phone on the table.

Jongin held his wrist in a quick movement. “What happened to your hand?”

Kyungsoo looked at him in the eyes, serious, and Jongin retreated his hand.

“Work accident,” Sehun said. “He cut his hand while chopping carrots… It was so deep that you could see the bone.”

“Aw,” Baekhyun made a scared face. “With those giant cooking knives? That’s… dangerous. Did you need stitches?”

“A few,” Sehun kept talking like Kyungsoo wasn’t there. “He bled a lot.”

“I’m fine,” Kyungsoo said, impatient, afraid that Sehun would describe a simple kitchen accident as a near-death experience. “I’m removing the stitches soon.”

Jongin’s eyes were still on Kyungsoo’s hand; he always seemed to see through things. Chanyeol came back and they put the new plates on the table.

“So,” Chanyeol said after he thanked the waiter. “Maybe you guys should introduce yourselves because Kyungsoo certainly wouldn’t.”

“I just met him,” Baekhyun said. “Is really okay that we joined you? Jongin whispered in my ear that I shouldn’t embarrass him.”

“And here you are,” Jongin said dryly. “Doing exactly what I asked you not to do.”

“Well, nice to meet you, I’m Park Chanyeol, Kyungsoo’s best friend, I guess,” he glared at Kyungsoo but still made an exaggerated gesture to the new guys. “And this guy here is Oh Sehun who is the other best friend, that I know for sure.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sehun bowed discreetly.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun and I’m here to have a good time,” he put his hand under his chin like he was posing. “I’m exhausted and I really need to eat but it’s nice to meet new friends too!”

“I’m Kim Jongin, nice to meet you,” Jongin said quietly.

“I’m guessing that you’re the guy, of course,” Chanyeol said like he didn’t know already. “No offense Baekhyun, it’s just that Kyungsoo has deeply internalized hate against his people, the short men.”

“Who are you calling short?” Baekhyun raised his fist, laughing. “Shut up, okay?”

They became friends in a span of minutes. Baekhyun and Chanyeol kept fighting, annoying each other playfully and Sehun was just laughing, ignoring Baekhyun’s flirting. He kept saying ‘ah, Sehun, are you a model?’ and then Chanyeol got angry because ‘Don’t I look like a model too?’. In general, they were having fun while Kyungsoo and Jongin were quiet. Jongin ordered a huge amount of food and he kept offering Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo only refused it.

“Ah, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun suddenly noticed the other two. “Though Jongin says your name like, every two minutes, he never gives me any information about you.”

“That’s because I don’t know anything,” Jongin said immediately and he sounded bitter. Kyungsoo gulped because they were all staring at him and that was it: Baekhyun knew about it and Sehun and Chanyeol didn’t. Kyungsoo thought about the love notes that Jongin kept, the way he kept asking Kyungsoo out; it was clear that Jongin had nothing to hide about his life and he considered Kyungsoo to be a part of it.

“Kyungsoo doesn’t like to share,” Sehun said softly. “Don’t be mad. That’s just the way he is.”

Jongin stared at Sehun with wide, surprised eyes but Baekhyun didn’t seem to be satisfied by just that information.

“So, tell me more about you, then,” he turned to Kyungsoo. “Five minutes and your friend here told me his whole life already.”

Chanyeol wasn’t offended, of course.

“What do you want to know?” Kyungsoo pushed his glasses up.

“I don’t know, man,” Baekhyun poked Kyungsoo’s cheek. “Look how cute you are. So cute.”

“I’m a sous-chef at Gaon. It means second after the Chef,” Kyungsoo said, pushing his hand away. “I’m twenty-eight, I have two dogs and I study English. I used to be an actor before I enlisted.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun was impressed. “He’s older than you, Jonginnie, yet you never call him hyung. When is your birthday, Kyungsoo?”

“12th January,” Chanyeol said automatically. “We threw a party this year.”

Jongin looked away. Kyungsoo was fascinated by it for a second, the movement of his mouth, a mix of disgust and anger. Sehun said something and Baekhyun asked a question, so they went back to their conversation, forgetting the other two. Jongin seemed to be pissed off and he was so expressive that it was easy to spot when he was trying to control himself, to smile again.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun started to compete to see who was the best at being the oversharing friend. Chanyeol told them about Kyungsoo’s unenthusiastic behavior at school, how Kyungsoo loved movies and how they became friends.

“Oh, god, it’s the bad sight story for the hundredth time,” Sehun drank his beer, tired.

Baekhyun wasn’t that cute. He told about Jongin’s clumsiness, hitting himself and forgetting things.

“He applied nail polish on his lips because he thought it was lip balm,” he made the whole table laugh. “Ah, let me tell about that time that we were with our friends in the United States and he made a scene in a drug store because he thought that the medicine was, his words, not mine, ‘too big to swallow’.”

Chanyeol was laughing so hard that he hit the table and his beer fell on Sehun’s lap. Kyungsoo laughed too but not because he thought the story was funny – he couldn’t help but remember how Jongin refused to swallow, running to the bathroom in a hurry. Jongin glanced at Kyungsoo briefly, like he knew what Kyungsoo was thinking about.

“Let me pull a Britney,” Baekhyun said in English, standing up with a tissue. “Can I clean your lap, sir?”

After they finished their meals, Baekhyun paid the bill, even if Chanyeol protested vehemently.

“Then I’ll take you all home,” he said, pouting.

They made the route based on the GPS map and then went to Chanyeol’s square car. Sehun ran to sit on the passenger seat and Chanyeol grinned when Kyungsoo tried to complain.

“I’m dropping you first,” he said. “Sit in the back.”

Jongin sat next to him and when they closed the doors, their bodies were touching. It was an odd feeling, to have him so close in a casual situation like that. Kyungsoo glanced at his pretty face when the other cars’ headlights hit them. It was nice to have Jongin around, after all. Kyungsoo needed to find a way to apologize, a gesture that could tell him that Kyungsoo wasn’t a jerk that treated him like a dirty secret.

“Do you want to come with me?” Kyungsoo whispered.

Jongin turned his face to show his confusion.

“To your place?”

Kyungsoo nodded, a bit shy. Jongin blinked many times.

“Now?” He asked, glancing at the others. He sounded like he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said. “If you’re not busy.”

Jongin gulped visibly and he didn’t answer. When Chanyeol stopped the car, Kyungsoo left without looking back. To his surprise, Jongin followed him.

Baekhyun looked at them and stuck his head out of the window.

“Don’t forget to take your pills,” he said wisely. “And please, safe sex only.”

Jongin showed him the middle finger and Baekhyun laughed loud, his laughter echoing even after the car left – or maybe Kyungsoo was so nervous that he was imagining things. He struggled to open the doors and kept looking back. He knew what he was about to do: he was letting Jongin in, giving him access to his life.

“Your friends are cool,” Jongin said, casually, taking off his shoes.

They were. Chanyeol and Sehun were nice, agreeable and fun, and that was why Kyungsoo would prefer not to mix his friends with personal life matters.

“Oh,” Jongin said as soon as he got in. “That’s nice!”

Ink and Pepper were on the couch, startled by the sudden stranger invasion. Jongin was fascinated by the plants everywhere as most people were when they visited him, but then he saw the dogs and turned into a small child.

“Oh, come here you babies,” he announced. Ink wasn’t pleased but Pepper gave him a chance and soon they were playing on the floor. Kyungsoo smiled and tried to fix anything that looked messy. Jongin didn’t mind – he kept walking around, touching things while carrying Pepper like a baby. _Oh, is this your brother? He looks just like you_ , _I can’t believe you like anime_ , _is that from NASA? Did you visit NASA?_

Kyungsoo endured it.

“Where are The Smiths’ albums?” Jongin was now inspecting his album collection.

“I don’t have one,” Kyungsoo arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I thought you liked them,” Jongin wondered, rocking Pepper slowly.

Kyungsoo shook his head and made him tea, just to take the dogs away from him. Jongin protested, pouted and even whined, but Kyungsoo muttered a few excuses and kept them in their room.

“Do you have a room for them?” Jongin was amused, grabbing the mug.

“They live here, don’t they?” He pointed.

Jongin giggled and drank his tea, eyeing everything.

“You looked cute as a soldier,” he smiled. “Did you give pictures to your friends so they didn’t miss you?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said, embarrassed. Jongin smiled again, this time brighter. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Jongin said. “I’m just happy that you don’t hate me.”

Kyungsoo sat on the floor, next to the table and stared at him, that looked even bigger, sitting on the couch. Jongin was one of these people that you could never find savorless, he understood.

“Why would I hate you?” He asked sincerely.

Jongin gulped, eyes lost for a second.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I have the feeling sometimes that you’re threatening me or something. Like, with your eyes.”

“It’s just the way I look,” Kyungsoo smiled.

“No, it’s not,” Jongin’s voice sounded a little sad. “Now that I’ve seen you around your friends, I know it’s not true. You’re just trying to tell me to not cross a line.”

Kyungsoo licked his lips. “I don’t hate you. It wouldn’t make any sense for me to hate you and keep seeing you.”

“Ah, you would be surprised how many people that despise me beg me for a ‘good time’,” Jongin let out an ironic snort. “To be attracted to someone and to like them are two really different things.”

Kyungsoo thought about the guy who kept sending messages, the one-night stand.

“I see.”

Jongin’s phone rang and he took a pillbox from his bag and swallowed two pills one after the other.

“Why are they for?” Kyungsoo inquired.

“Painkillers and vitamins,” Jongin was sipping his tea. “I’m too busy.”

He didn’t have to explain that, Kyungsoo thought. He saw himself how Jongin’s schedule was packed, how little sleep he got and how he winced, sometimes. Kyungsoo didn’t know what to do next, but he knew that he wouldn’t get horny after that long night.

“Do you want to stay the night?” Kyungsoo asked carefully.

Jongin placed the mug on the table and frowned.

“Isn’t what I’m doing right now?” He asked.

“I’m going to bed,” Kyungsoo said, gulping, suddenly afraid that he would disappoint Jongin. He touched his bandages unconsciously.

Jongin didn’t catch whatever Kyungsoo was trying to say, so he followed the cook like a lost puppy. Kyungsoo sat on the bed and sighed.

“Do you need something to sleep comfortably?”

Kyungsoo expected Jongin to be disappointed; the whole night was a mix of silences and misunderstandings and now he was trying to be clear, _I’m not going to have sex with you. The tour is over._ Kyungsoo didn’t want to go back – he didn’t want to walk back to Jongin’s apartment or to keep playing this ‘not caring’ game. He let Jongin in because he was in debt.

To his surprise, Jongin’s confused face was replaced by a bright smile.

“Just a few pillows. I like to sleep with no shirt,” he said, walking around the bed. “I should be the one worrying. How can we keep your hand safe—oh, it’s the left one, right? So sleep on the left side so I won’t crush it while I’m sleeping.”

Kyungsoo was disconcerted by the whole thing. Jongin ordered him to pee, to take off his glasses, to lie down; he seemed to assume a caring role, doing everything to keep Kyungsoo cozy.

“Ah, do I turn the lights off?” Jongin asked, staring at him. Kyungsoo nodded weakly and watched how Jongin’s shadow moved in the dark, just a blur.

Jongin lay down next to him – the bed creaked, unused to such a heavy weight. Their skins touched and Kyungsoo felt thrilled, a pure feeling of excitation undressed from sexual tones. They were alone, in the dark, and Kyungsoo could hear his breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.

“For what?” Jongin asked – his warm breath on Kyungsoo’s face.

“I wasn’t treating you nicely,” Kyungsoo confessed.

“I know,” Jongin said. “But I liked that.”

It didn’t sound like it had any sexual intent. It was a sad realization.

“Why?” Kyungsoo asked and half of him was afraid of that answer.

Jongin took a deep breath; even if Kyungsoo couldn’t see his face, he could picture it in his mind.

“Most people are really, _really_ nice to me. Some of them have to be, of course, but even people who despise me try to please me. I have to live in such a fake world, Kyungsoo. You probably have no idea. It’s a really dark place to exist, to be around people that are desperate to be loved, that could die for money and attention. No one really prepared me for it, I had to see it on my own,” he stopped talking for a moment. “They want you and they want to destroy you at the same time, and they will attack you if you don’t act like what they want. Some of them try to be friendly but they would step on me if that meant that they could get what they want. I had friends that just wanted to use me, had lovers that didn’t care about me that—even hurt me for fun. Everything is fake, so— they fake smiles, a good personality, they fake love, relationships, they bask on the fact that they’re being watched, that they have a small amount of power, that they have eyes on them. Fake faces, fake smiles, fake kisses, fake loves, oh my god, it’s so claustrophobic sometimes. I wonder if people know, like I do. That everyone is lying, everyone is pretending to be someone else. That’s what I have to do too, pretend to be so many things. I’m fake too, I guess.”

It was an emotional speech. Kyungsoo was breathless, taken by those words. He remembered Jongin and the book, the teary eyes, feeling the characters’ emotions. _He’s a complex and beautiful person_ , Kyungsoo thought sadly, _and I’m avoiding to face him._

Jongin held his hand. 

“You’re not trying to please me,” he said, a mix of admiration and pain. “You’re not trying to impress me, you don’t ask anything from me. And I knew since I met you that you’re real. You’re sincere and your eyes are sincere, so even if you’re not being nice to me, it feels good. I like this brutal honesty of yours.”

Kyungsoo didn’t dare to say anything.

“I know you didn’t want me here or around your friends and I must say that even the fact that they didn’t know about me made me happy,” he truly sounded pleased. “You’re not bragging about me. You don’t know how relieved I am.”

“It makes me feel like I’m being cruel,” Kyungsoo said; he had a bad taste in his mouth. “I’m not trying to hurt you in any way.”

“You’re not cruel,” Jongin said quickly, realizing what that meant. “And I’m not a masochist. I’m just trying to explain that—I—don’t mind if you’re not pleasing me all the time. I appreciate the fact that you’re being honest. It’s not like I can demand you to treat me like I want you to… You’re not doing anything wrong. I just want things that you won’t give me and I get that’s my fault—I do that all the time. I really push myself too hard.”

Kyungsoo could relate to that feeling, of course. It was just what happens between two people: expectations, illusions, reality, and different demands. He felt sad and regretted the whole conversation. Now that he knew that Jongin saw things very differently, he knew what their bond meant.

Jongin moved and held his face, kissing him lightly in the lips in a slow movement like he was expecting Kyungsoo to push him away – but Kyungsoo was too tired, even for that.

“Do you have plants at home because you smoke?” Jongin asked, almost a whisper.

Kyungsoo froze. He was discreet, never doing it with people around, carrying perfume to mask the smell. Only his closest friends knew that he smoked because they knew most things that Kyungsoo couldn’t share and it was a mutual agreement. Sehun spent too much money on home décor in secret, Chanyeol had songs, projects and things that no one but them knew and they all had things with men, once in a while. Though Chanyeol and Sehun were more open about their lives, Kyungsoo never shared things like these at work or within his family and he surely wouldn’t tell Jongin about his old habit. Not because Jongin didn’t deserve it but because being private was Kyungsoo’s best prerogative, making people see him as hard-working and polite only.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said, there was no point in lying.

Jongin didn’t say anything else. He must have realized that Kyungsoo didn’t like the question and just kept kissing him softly.

“We should sleep,” Kyungsoo warned him. “Is there anything that you want?”

Jongin sighed.

“Could you say my name in a really sweet way?”

“What?” Kyungsoo almost snorted. “Is that a real request?”

“Yes,” Jongin said. “I figured that you only would do it like that, in the dark.”

Kyungsoo thought about it. His friends loved to ask him that for some reason he couldn't understand.

“Why do you want me to do it?”

“It would be nice,” Jongin said simply.

“Jong- _in_ ,” Kyungsoo mimicked the girls he saw on tv, emphasizing on the last past. “Is that how—”

Jongin made an odd sound in the dark and Kyungsoo heard the bed creaking, almost shaking.

“Sorry,” he laughed. “I lost control of my body for a second.”

Kyungsoo smiled in the dark.

“Goodnight, Jongin.”

“Good night, hyung.”

Kyungsoo slept well, even if it was warmer than it used to be. When he woke up in the morning, he realized that he was alone. _Of course, Jongin would be busy_ , he thought with no worries. He washed his face, changed the bandages and stretched. The mourning routine was interrupted when he left the room and found a note under an empty glass on the table.

He took it, confused. There was a heart shape with some words inside. A tiny poem.

_spending time with you_

_feels like_

_not spending time at all_

Kyungsoo stared at it for a minute.

A part of him knew what they meant. Jongin kept asking him out, being nice and, as Kyungsoo found out, sharing about him with friends. That was the way he was, maybe he liked being honest and open because, like he said, he was surrounded by fake people. He liked Kyungsoo, no doubt, and he wanted to show that; even being busy, he wanted to be with Kyungsoo, which was sweet.

The other part had a vivid memory of the love notes in his apartment and felt disgusted to become one of them. _That’s what I am,_ Kyungsoo stated dryly, _another lover to collect_.

Both parts were tired of that emotional rollercoaster. Kyungsoo was a simple man and reading Jongin’s actions was just like trying to read the board with no glasses, too complicated. He wanted his life to be steady and quiet as it used to be.

He searched for a lost cigarette between his things and he sighed in relief when he found it. He grabbed the note and lighted a match.

He burned the note and used its fire to light his cigarette.

.

.

.

.

Kyungsoo had to explain in a way that didn’t end up with Chanyeol breaking something in an anger attack. Sehun looked disappointed too and his eyes were sad. Kyungsoo coughed and rubbed his nose, anxious.

“Yes,” he declared. “I’m dating a guy.”

Chanyeol was just two evasive sentences away from kicking Kyungsoo’s ass.

“Who?” He narrowed his eyes.

“That guy I picked up on that day,” Kyungsoo said quickly. “His name is Kris—actually it’s not, but it’s his name when he’s not in his home country. He’s nice, he plays basketball and he has no pets.”

“When can we meet him?” Sehun asked, confused. “Is that recent?”

“Very recent,” Kyungsoo says. “I asked him out and it was nice, so I proposed a relationship. He’s okay with that and I plan on taking him to your party gig.”

That mention changed the whole game. Chanyeol’s face was shining again and Sehun seemed positively surprised.

“I thought you would have no time…” Sehun whispered.

“Yes, it’s true, but I asked for my free days,” Kyungsoo said simply because his friends knew that Kyungsoo’s boss owned him a couple of days that he worked for free while replacing other cooks. Kyungsoo never thought he was going to ask for something in return.

“Only for that gig?” Chanyeol seemed worried. “It’s not that great, I mean. It’s just a gig.”

“No, I’ll travel after,” Kyungsoo informed them. “We’re going to spend a few days in Canada because he lives there—most of the time.”

Sehun and Chanyeol looked at each other, shocked. Kyungsoo didn’t blame them, he was surprised too.

Led to the decision to erase Jongin from his life, Kyungsoo blocked his number. It was a hard thing to do; Jongin didn’t do anything wrong to receive such treatment. Yet Kyungsoo knew that he needed to nip the connection in the bud. He needed to stop it because it was the only way he could escape a potential heartbreak or humiliation – the other option was to ask Jongin, a man that he met six months before, to throw away his relationship and side lovers to stay with a guy that he barely knew.

Unfortunately, that was too much for a simple man like Kyungsoo.

“What happened with that guy we met like, a month ago?” Chanyeol was suspicious. “The pink sweater, lady bag guy. He was hot and he looked nice.”

“He’s nice,” Kyungsoo nodded. “But he’s not the one for me.”

“So I suppose that means that this new dude is?” Chanyeol was _really_ suspicious.

In many ways, Kris and Kyungsoo were made for each other. Since their first date – if they didn’t count that time that they had sex – Kyungsoo knew that. Kris was a quiet, calm and simple kind of person (but not humble at all), that didn’t have problems with going straight to the point. Kyungsoo asked him out and he said yes, Kyungsoo asked for a stable relationship, he said yes.

“I thought you would never answer my messages,” Kris confided once. “I felt like the charming prince running after cinderella, but you know. Instead of shiny shoes, you left me a bunch of used condoms.”

He was funny, effortlessly funny. If Kyungsoo wanted to see him, he always said yes. He was letting his hair grow out, he liked cars and he had trouble answering questions. His body was long and sometimes he looked like he didn’t care about most things. 

“That’s a weird way to define a person,” Sehun frowned. “But do you like him?”

“I like him,” Kyungsoo said. He wasn’t in love, that was for sure, but he had found a comfortable place to stay.

“Then I guess we like him too,” Sehun shrugged.

“I’m sorry that this is so sudden,” Kyungsoo said sincerely. “It happened too fast.”

Too fast, Kyungsoo thought. They went out to eat pasta as a pair on their first date and left as a couple. He didn’t think it could be so simple; he didn’t imagine that he would have the guts to do something like that. In fact, he knew that it would be easier since Kris was just a positive memory in his mind. Nothing to be afraid of.

.

“Which one of the two?” Kris asked, holding two impossibly huge shirts that looked like they would be baggy even on a man like him.

Kyungsoo stopped reading and analyzed the shirts.

“The black one,” he said, pulling the blanket up. It was cold inside of Kris’ room. He was a bit over the top and his room was the exact same size as Kyungsoo’s whole apartment – the long windows were open and it felt like they were in the middle of a tornado. The posters on the wall – rappers, basketball players and a few superheroes – were shaking, but Kris didn’t mind.

“You’re only choosing it because it’s black,” he said, snorting.

“Exactly,” Kyungsoo said, turning the page. “You shouldn’t worry about clothes.”

“I like worrying about clothes,” Kris said. “And your friends’ opinion.”

Kyungsoo almost laughed. Kris was the exact type of guy that they would love to be around.

“What’s happening in the book?” He asked Kyungsoo suddenly, grabbing a towel.

“Lila will get married,” Kyungsoo said weakly. “I don’t trust her fiancé, Stefano.”

“Great, don’t forget to get ready,” Kris said before leaving the room.

Kyungsoo wasn’t worried about that. He was immersed in that universe like he never had been before. He wasn’t a fan of books, he liked movies. He was used to reading plays, scripts, and menus. But to prove to himself that he wasn’t afraid of his choices, he went to the books store and bought the book. Jongin wasn’t going to emerge from the pages, it was just a book. The story was interesting and Kyungsoo kept reading without asking himself why.

He threw the book on the bed and went back to reality.

He and Kris only arrived late, when it was already crowded. The place was a huge house with long pillars and an intricate system of disco ball and lights, so Kyungsoo felt uncomfortable and had a lot of trouble to find his friends. Sehun and Chanyeol were chilling outside, far away from the sweaty people, with a random guy.

“Hello,” Kyungsoo asked, panting. Kris walked slowly, afraid to ruin his expensive white sneakers by stepping on the grass. “Did your music—”

“Nope,” Chanyeol said, shaking a plastic red cup. “I’m going to be the next one. Gotta love some DJ Loey…”

“Aren’t you going too?” Kyungsoo asked Sehun.

“I’m tired,” Sehun said simply. It could be anything, based on how much he hated to expose himself. “Next time.”

“This is Kris,” Kyungsoo pointed to the tall men behind him. “My boyfriend.”

Chanyeol and Sehun stared at him, mesmerized.

“Damn,” Chanyeol frowned. “You’re taller than me, man. What’s your shoe size?”

“I think I know you?” Sehun said. “Were you in the Bvlgari event in Rome?”

Kris was swallowed by their questions, but he answered everything with a kind smile. He was easy going and Kyungsoo knew was just a matter of time until his friends accepted him. Kyungsoo looked for a place to sit and then realized that the man with his friends was Baekhyun. He was in the corner, sitting on the floor against a stone wall. He was using black baggy clothes and his fishing hat.

Kyungsoo sat next to him and greeted him politely.

“I didn’t see you there,” Baekhyun said. “I’m drunk already.”

Of course, he would be around, based on how quickly the boys got comfortable with him. Chanyeol’s bickering and Sehun’s gentle words about him convinced Kyungsoo that despite that awkward night, they became good friends. Why wouldn’t they? It was hard to ignore that Sehun was loyal and full of affection and that Chanyeol would die for the people he loved. Baekhyun would be stupid to let good people like them escape.

“That’s fine. How are you?”

“Cleary drunk, so I’m super good,” he smiled. He was strikingly pretty. “And you?”

“Fine,” Kyungsoo nodded.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Baekhyun raised his fishing hat to take a look at Kris.

“That’s recent,” Kyungsoo said, looking at how Kris was laughing about something that Chanyeol had said.

“Uhm, I don’t know why you people love to have relationships, being single is the best,” he said bitterly. “Don’t you think it’s a lot of energy spending?”

Kyungsoo smiled.

“I used to think like that.”

Baekhyun shrugged, drinking from his red cup. Kyungsoo wanted to ask about Jongin but he wouldn’t. He just sat down next to the singer and stared at the house, the lights and the people on the balcony. Baekhyun stared at him for a couple of minutes in silence.

“Do you have an open relationship like Jongin?”

Just hearing the name made Kyungsoo sweat.

“No,” Kyungsoo said. “I don’t have the detachment that he has.”

Baekhyun laughed, loud and clear, as a statement.

“No, he doesn’t. His relationship is a joke, honey,” he spat. “They should’ve broken up ages ago, but he’s deeply afraid to be alone and he can never find a better replacement than her. I mean, I understand, there’s a real old bond but if you only see your partner like, six times a year, can we call this a relationship? I don’t know, man. I see my friends more frequently than that every month. And I’m busy…”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say – he felt numb, disconnected from reality.

“I thought that you could be the one,” Baekhyun said simply as if was something casual. “He keeps trying to find someone but it’s hard. Someone like Jongin… he doesn’t attract real love that easily. They keep projecting their fantasies on him, poor baby. And he doesn’t have tough skin like me. I’ve been there, you know, when people are desperate to have you just because you look like their dream but I learned how to protect myself after a lot of suffering, of course… Jongin isn’t like me, he likes to go deep without thinking first.”

Kyungsoo was listening to every word and he already knew it by heart. He couldn’t understand why Baekhyun was ranting about Jongin when Kris was just two meters away.

“I understand now why he’s working like crazy,” Baekhyun seemed to read Kyungsoo’s mind and stared at the three guys laughing near them. “He adores you, man… but I understand. It takes a lot to date someone like him… I mean, he’s my best friend and I would _never_. Too much trouble.”

“He’s not trouble,” Kyungsoo said defensively, words escaping his mouth.

Baekhyun looked at him curiously.

“Of course, he’s not,” he smiled, satisfied. “Of course.”

Then, ignoring Kyungsoo’s existence, he stood up.

“Hey, dumbass and hot-ass,” Baekhyun was dusting off his pants. “Let’s get in. You guys need to get ready to set this place on fire.”

“I’m not—” Sehun started.

“You will, I’ll hold your hand and sing for you,” Baekhyun winked. “Come on, imagine how crazy it’ll be. You guys will be on the news.”

Kyungsoo was barely listening. Kris helped him to get up and they followed his friends in. The rest of the night was a blur, even if he was smiling nonstop, genuinely happy for the people that he loved so much.

.

Canada wasn’t like he was picturing that it would be. It was the middle of spring and it was warm and quiet. Kris had a house, not an apartment, in a nice neighborhood where everyone seemed to know him. People were genuinely gentle and attentive, talking to both of them with no prejudice.

“Here, it’s different,” he said when they brought the suitcases inside. “They don’t care about this stuff. We can get married, if you want to.”

For a moment, Kyungsoo thought that he was just informing him, but Kris was genuinely okay with marriage, he realized. He stood in the middle of the room, shocked. There was this brutal difference about them, the way Kris acted freely because he had nothing stopping him from doing what he wanted.

“We started dating a month ago,” Kyungsoo mumbled.

“And what? If it doesn’t work out, we can get divorced,” he laughed. “I’m not proposing, Kyungsoo. Calm down.”

But he didn’t calm down. The place was nice and they went to the movies, to some underground concerts, to eat different things. Kris’ friends were very different from each other, loud and touch starved, joking all the time. Women smoked in plain sight – they had rooms for people to smoke, - and they were allowed to smoke marijuana; Kris had some in his house near the chocolate and candy bowl, in the middle of his living room. He complained when Kyungsoo bought cigarettes and when they went back home, he said.

“Let me show how nice it is to fuck while you’re high,” and made Kyungsoo smoke his joint, instead of his Marlboro.

It was really nice.

Kris kept the smoke inside of his mouth and then french-kissed Kyungsoo. He felt soft and he couldn’t get hard easily but when he did it, it was worth it.

Even after they got back home, Jongin only existed in Kyungsoo’s mind while he was reading. Kyungsoo bought the second book right after finishing reading the first – he was hooked on the story. He just wished he had someone to talk about it, then he thought about Jongin, the burned poem, and Baekhyun’s words.

Kyungsoo’s hand had now a scar like a thin white line.

.

May ended. Kyungsoo went back to work, healthier than ever. He needed that break, he needed to see foreign places, to leave the old environment, just for a few days. He went back to the kitchen, but his boss seemed to be more affected by his trip to Canada in a surprising way. As soon as Kyungsoo returned, he started to ask questions in English to measure his knowledge about the business. When they were together in Army, his boss was already a Michelin Star chef, a man who enlisted too late, so it was understandable that all that he knew about Kyungsoo was how hard-working and capable the cook was.

“If I opened a place overseas, you could work there,” he hinted.

Kyungsoo, of course, smiled and said nothing. He was happy and so were his friends.

June was a short month. It was really hot and there were reservations until July. It was the time when the restaurants were crowded with people who wanted desperately to enjoy their vacations, mostly tourists. Kris begged Kyungsoo to spend some time with him on a beach but Kyungsoo was exhausted. Since Chanyeol and Sehun were busy, he accepted to go on a trip on a weekend.

When June was almost over, Jongin’s girlfriend was at Gaon, eating with a group of people.

Kyungsoo usually didn’t pay attention to the clients – he barely had access to them, generally locked in the kitchen, cooking and helping. But the universe was conspiring that day and Byungjin was receiving an award overseas; without the boss around, Kyungsoo had to be the one to talk to them.

Nothing really happened. He introduced the dishes, suggested one or two items and, in the end, received the compliments. She didn’t say anything and Kyungsoo knew that she had no idea of who he was, of course. In the middle of a group of loud eaters, she ate quietly and elegantly with a bored expression; even if she complimented the food, there was nothing about her that was attention-drawing, despite her beauty. _She’s just a person,_ Kyungsoo realized, seeing how the picture was alive in her thin smile. Her presence there made everything more real – when she was just a picture, Kyungsoo could pretend that she didn’t exist. She also made Jongin real after a couple of months when he was just a memory. As he was closing the restaurant, he was picturing how they would meet, not in Jongin’s cramped apartment but in his parent’s house, where she would talk to his family, play with the kids… Kyungsoo felt disgusted again, as he felt when he found the note.

To exorcise this feeling, he called Kris, that was working somewhere in China.

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo asked. “I’m not feeling well and I wanted to hear your voice.”

“ _Are you sick_?” He sounded worried.

“No, just a feeling.”

“ _Oh, fine. Can you tell me what happened? Please don’t tell me that you’re mad because of the book again.”_

Kyungsoo snorted.

“I finished the second book and forgot about it,” Kyungsoo confessed. “There are four of them.”

“ _Well, go buy the third, then! Tell me where the story ended.”_

“Lenú published a book… and then Nino stood up for her when a man was trashing the story.”

“ _Is Nino the fuckboy_?”

Kyungsoo laughed hard.

“Yes.”

After talking for a while, Kyungsoo felt better. He went to another book store to buy the book. He couldn’t help but wonder if Jongin were around. Of course not, but he could picture another coincidence, the irresistible force of destiny.

“I’m talking like him,” Kyungsoo said. He paid for the book and left.

.

Summer was burning them alive when Kyungsoo returned home one night and faced one of his neighbors.

“There was a drunk guy last night looking for you,” he said, tying the trash bag. “He was screaming your name outside.”

“It’s Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo explained. “My best friend always does that. He has a thing for calling my name a thousand times.”

Kyungsoo sat at his couch and started to read. He was beyond tired, skipping English questions, taking naps everywhere. His shoulder made him wince twice at work, but Kyungsoo pretended that nothing was happening. He was sleepy but he needed to finish the book, he wanted to know the end of the story, at least. It was so dense and had so many plot twists.

He fell asleep, of course. He was too old for that.

He was awakened by knocks on his door. He opened it and faced the same neighbor.

“The guy is outside,” he said. “He’s not screaming this time.”

“Ah,” Kyungsoo smiled. “Thank you.”

Kyungsoo went downstairs knowing that the nosy neighbors must have been watching him. They ogled Kris, Sehun, and Chanyeol every time, probably thinking that Kyungsoo was a promiscuous man, full of boyfriends. It was windy, even in the summer. Kyungsoo opened the gate and faced Jongin sitting on the ground.

It was so absurd that it seemed normal.

“Hello,” Jongin said, looking up.

“Hello,” Kyungsoo gulped.

It was actually hilarious. Kyungsoo pictured their reunion a thousand times, in the middle of the street, in another airport, in a bookstore and there he was, sitting on the sidewalk in front of Kyungsoo’s place. Jongin was dressed casually, white plain shirt, bare face, and messy hair.

“I came to apologize for yesterday,” he said. “Just that. I’m sorry, I was drunk and my friends didn’t stop me.”

“I wasn’t here,” he said. He omitted the ‘I was at my boyfriend’s place'. “Did you want to talk to me?”

Jongin let out a sad laugh.

“Oh, God, no, I was just embarrassing myself.”

“Do you want to come in?” Kyungsoo asked. “Why are you sitting there?”

“I forgot my painkillers,” he mumbled. “No, I’ll ask for an uber, thank you.”

“Aren’t you afraid that someone can see you?” Kyungsoo looked around. “Wait inside, please.”

Jongin stared at the ground and sighed. He looked resigned, besides everything.

“No,” he gestured dismissively. “Thank you.”

Kyungsoo stood there, confused.

“Then I’ll wait with you,” he said. “I’ll be here.”

Jongin turned to him and stared in that way that made Kyungsoo feel naked, easy to read. They spent a minute in silence and it felt like an eternity. Kyungsoo was searching through his mind whatever piece that could give the answer for that behavior.

“I’m in Lenu’s marriage by now,” he said, agony running down his body. “I like Pietro. He seems good for her but I don’t trust him. Why didn’t he read her book?”

Jongin didn’t blink but his chest moved faster.

“Can I stay the night?” He asked. “I’ll sleep on the couch, I won’t bother you.”

Kyungsoo wasn’t expecting that. He helped Jongin to get up and held him by the waist; he looked endlessly tired and sad. Kyungsoo didn’t ask questions, instead, he tried to pretend that he wasn’t affected by their proximity, by Jongin’s sweet perfume.

He sat on Kyungsoo’s couch on his own, breathing harder.

“I’ve been working nonstop since last week and I don’t think that I have slept more than three hours per night,” he said. “My sister had a baby and he cries all the time. I slept at my friend’s house yesterday but I didn’t want to bother anyone, so I rented a hotel room. It’s lonely and sad there. Thanks for letting me stay.”

It seemed like a weak excuse. He must have plenty of places to stay.

“How about your apartment?”

“I don’t have it anymore,” he said simply, lying down on the couch. His eyes were on the tiny pile of books on the floor.

Kyungsoo gave him a blanket and searched for the meds that he had on a box. Jongin read each one of them and took one.

“I think that this one will do,” he said, holding it. “I’m not going to die, I’m just exhausted.”

Kyungsoo grabbed the leftovers and warmed them, then poured juice in a glass and took everything so Jongin wouldn’t take the pill on an empty stomach. Jongin watched Kyungsoo placing it on the table and said nothing.

“It’s a mix of things,” Kyungsoo said, sitting on the floor. “You need to eat.”

Jongin stared at him and then to the pill between his fingers; he had dark eye bags and his stubble was growing like he forgot to shave for a couple of days. It suited his face – he was still gorgeous.

“I’ve been wondering what did I do,” he said quietly. “What did I do to piss you off. I thought, it must have been something bad, so repulsive that he left without a word.”

Kyungsoo licked his lips, nervous.

“But here you are, being nice and everything,” he shrugged. “Yesterday I drank too much and I wanted to ask you that. It’s been haunting me, Kyungsoo. I can’t understand. I mean, I know that you’re dating, but.”

He never finished the sentence, swallowing the pill and then drinking the juice. Kyungsoo wanted to run away, he wanted to smoke a cigarette and yet he wouldn’t leave. He wanted to be around Jongin.

“I didn’t like where it was going, you and me. I decided that cutting you out would be the easiest way to end everything,” he said sincerely. “You did nothing wrong, Jongin.”

Jongin stared at him, and to Kyungsoo’s absolute horror, he started to cry. It was a silent cry, just tears rolling down his face. It made Kyungsoo uncomfortable; he never allowed himself to cry in front of others. Jongin made it look easy, natural.

“Thank you,” he said, wiping his face. “I needed to hear that.”

It hit Kyungsoo like a train, like putting his glasses on for the first time. Jongin on his couch in pain, at night. The scars on his back and hips, the pillbox, the long-distance relationship, and the love notes. _Jongin gives his bare heart,_ he said to himself, _while all I do is run, hide, suppress._ He was out there sitting on a sidewalk while Kyungsoo blocked his number.

“I didn’t realize that this was so cruel,” Kyungsoo looked down. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like that.”

“You didn’t owe me anything,” Jongin said. “You really made me happy, Kyungsoo. I thought people like you didn’t exist.”

“Stop praising me when I fuck things up,” Kyungsoo said angrily and then realized his tone, the cursing, the raw anger. “I was just running away. There’s nothing nice about that, that’s just because you want to see me this way.”

Jongin didn’t question him.

“I’m not mad,” he said. “I just wanted to know if it was because of me.”

Kyungsoo didn’t want to say anything else, that sudden desire to leave, to not move or say anything, to be completely invisible.

“I don’t like to share,” Kyungsoo said suddenly, throat dry. “That was the reason.”

Jongin smiled gently, his face still wet.

“I know that,” he said.

It seemed like an important moment. It seemed like one of those things that happen in books only, that Kyungsoo’s boring life would never allow him to have— just like when they met.

“If I had asked you to be with me only, would you?” Kyungsoo asked quickly, afraid that he wouldn’t have the guts to ask ever again.

“At that time, probably not,” Jongin said simply. “But if you ask me now, I’ll say yes.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t move. He waited to see if someone would appear and tell him that it was just a big joke. Maybe he would wake up and he would be in his right flight and everything since that cursed December evening was just a dream – Jongin was just a guy that he once saw in a magazine and his subconscious used him to send a deep message. It couldn’t be true. It shouldn’t be true.

“Forget it,” Jongin closed his eyes. “I know that I shouldn’t be requesting this. You’re dating, I don’t know why I—”

“I can’t throw everything that I have now just because you’re here,” Kyungsoo interrupted him; Jongin’s embarrassment hurt him. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t have feelings for you.”

Jongin opened his eyes slowly.

“You scare me,” Kyungsoo confessed, looking down. “You said that I was ‘too much’ but you’re the one who’s making me act like this. Since I’ve met you, I don’t feel like myself at all. Even now, that I’m here, it doesn’t feel real. Everywhere you are, that’s a dream.”

“I fell for you,” Jongin said, like someone could say, _it’s a warm night._

“Don’t do this,” Kyungsoo whispered; his heart was beating so fast that he was feeling dizzy.

“It’s true,” Jongin said. “It’s not like I can hide it. I’ve been told that I’m not good at it.”

Kyungsoo stood up and left the room without a word. He came back with a pillow and another blanket; it was cold.

“Take this,” Kyungsoo offered. “Be careful with your back, too.”

Jongin didn’t take it. He was staring at Kyungsoo, too serious.

“I'm waiting,” he said. “Don’t pretend that I didn’t say anything.”

“This is not right,” Kyungsoo sighed. “You know I can’t give what you want right now.”

“I just want to know what you feel,” Jongin whispered. “Just that.”

Kyungsoo licked his lips. It hurt to look at him because when they were this close, it was hard to ignore the memories. Kyungsoo could trace the line of Jongin’s neck as he did once with his tongue. His hands, his eyes, his legs, Kyungsoo knew every detail in mind, by heart. _Maybe, someday, I won’t be this attracted to him,_ Kyungsoo hoped, yet he wasn’t very convinced.

“I don’t know how I feel,” Kyungsoo gulped. “But I want you.”

“That’s a start,” Jongin held the pillow and the blanket like he was hugging someone. “Thank you and have a good night.”

Kyungsoo tuned back immediately, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to do it if he stayed a little more. He didn’t have a peaceful sleep and when he woke up, Jongin had left without saying goodbye, without leaving a note.

.

Kyungsoo went straight to Chanyeol’s apartment after that night, ignoring everyone else’s messages. It was raining and he had only a coat, so when Chanyeol opened the door, Kyungsoo was soaking.

“Damn,” Chanyeol ran inside to bring a towel, but Kyungsoo didn’t care. He waited in the door, trembling. Chanyeol threw the towel on him and provided him a nice warm cup of tea.

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo said, sitting like a child on Chanyeol’s carpet.

“My pleasure,” Chanyeol smiled lazily, cozy on his big jumper. “What happened? Last time you popped up so late without calling, it wasn’t good news.”

It was when Kyungsoo’s name was on the army list.

“I promised you that I would tell you what was wrong and I think that now I know,” Kyungsoo said simply, absently picking a strand of hair on Chanyeol’s slippers.

“I’m listening,” he said.

Kyungsoo started from the day that they met. Chanyeol was expressive and some of his faces would be hilarious if Kyungsoo wasn’t so focused on not forgetting any detail. He wanted to present a clean version of facts, even if he knew that it would be a partial truth. Chanyeol, once in a while, interrupted him to ask a few questions. When Kyungsoo finished his rant, he just hummed in response.

“I need advice,” Kyungsoo went straight to the point.

Chanyeol moved his head cutely like a child.

“I’m thinking,” he said. “I guess even if you feel comfortable in your relationship, you should end this before you get too attached to something that is only… good.”

Kyungsoo frowned.

“Sometimes you complain about something but that thing isn’t that bad, so you keep doing it,” Chanyeol shrugged. “Pretty much like your job.”

“You always say that I shouldn’t complain about my job,” Kyungsoo was confused.

“Yeah, because it’s annoying. I mean, if it bothers you so much, why don’t you just leave? You always wanted to have your own place but you don’t have a plan and your job is pretty much okay, so you just stay there, complaining like it’s your boss’ fault, not yours,” Chanyeol sighed. “You already have enough but your self-loathing mind keeps telling you that you have to wait, that you’re not good enough.”

Kyungsoo drank his tea in silence.

“The thing is… wow, you take control way too seriously, Kyungsoo. You start liking someone and it’s not the arrangement that you want so you just push the person away, erase them and replace them with someone that you don’t even like that much?” Chanyeol rolled his eyes, annoyed. “Oh, so I can’t control my feelings nor the person I like, so let me put this safe person in their place instead.”

“That’s not…” Kyungsoo sighed. “I asked for advice, not a scold.”

“You deserve that,” Chanyeol pouted, angry. “I mean, you know what you have to do. You have to break up and then go to this dude and tell, hey man, I love you. Let’s date and shit.”

Kyungsoo just stared at him.

“Ah, I know what you’re doing. _Ah, but think about Kris’ feelings_ , you should have worried about that before you chose to date him,” he was making a whole scene, mimicking Kyungsoo’s blank face and calm voice. “ _But what if Jongin says no,_ the man told you that he wanted you, I swear—”

“Let me think about it,” Kyungsoo pleaded.

“You know what, _no_ ,” Chanyeol stood up. “You’re going to break up with your boyfriend now or otherwise you won’t. He doesn’t deserve this and maybe you don’t deserve it too.”

Kyungsoo grabbed the cup harder.

“That’s insane,” he complained. “God, I knew you would do that.”

“What? Pushing you to do crazy things? That’s my whole contribution here, Kyungsoo. I push you into crazy stuff and you hold me from doing crazy stuff, that’s why we’re best friends,” Chanyeol grabbed his car keys. “I won’t even change my clothes. Come on.”

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo started a staring fight.

“Let me smoke first,” Kyungsoo said, losing the game.

.

Before Kyungsoo rang the doorbell, he thought about how what he would say; he still had no idea. His plan consisted of being sincere and calm but that alone wouldn’t make it less hard. He never had to break up before and it felt as insane as the start of their relationship, a rushed, irresponsible choice. Also, they were good. Kyungsoo had nothing to complain about.

He turned back to leave. Chanyeol honked.

“Shut up,” Kyungsoo grunted.

Kris opened the door, yawning; Kyungsoo turned back to him like a child who was caught ringing the doorbell before running away.

“Hey,” Kris frowned, sleepy eyes and long pajamas. “Who’s honking?”

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo gulped. “He’s just trying to rush me. Just let me send a message to him.”

“Wave from the window,” Kris suggested, letting him in with no more questions.

Kyungsoo accepted the suggestion in silence. He was sweating already, something that he hated very much. He thought about how little he knew about Kris and yet how comfortable their relationship was. Kris had a world of experiences, unlike Kyungsoo who hated to travel, to leave home and do anything new; Kris was intelligent and successful, had a wide range of cool interests and he never made Kyungsoo feel weird for his own interests, even the ‘boring’ ones, as knives and old tap-dance movies. Kyungsoo sat on the couch and accepted an ice tea.

“So,” he said, sitting next to Kyungsoo. The proximity made Kyungsoo feel guilty and he moved away from him a little.

“I was thinking about what I proposed you on our first date,” Kyungsoo said. “And I think that we should change that.”

Kris took a while to understand.

“Oh,” he nodded. “So you don’t want to date?”

He didn’t seem to be distressed. Maybe confused.

“I think that I was hasty,” the cook confessed.

“Well, you were,” Kris giggled. “I thought it was cute, though.”

Kyungsoo sighed.

“Maybe we shouldn’t date,” he whispered.

“Okay, let me understand,” Kris raised a finger. “Are you asking me for a break or you want to date other people?”

“Date other people,” Kyungsoo said immediately.

“Ah, that, that’s super fine,” Kris giggled again. “You didn’t have to be so serious about this. I wouldn’t mind if you hooked up with other people. You were the one who demanded otherwise, you know.”

“I know,” Kyungsoo felt even more guilty. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine,” Kris held his hand, interlacing their fingers. “I like when things are simpler; when we have more freedom.”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo said.

.

He knocked on the window until Chanyeol opened his eyes. Chanyeol woke up cursing, confused.

“Let me in,” Kyungsoo mouthed, wiping his wet forehead.

Chanyeol watched while Kyungsoo entered the car, lips pressed into a line.

“Why are you smelling like soup, Kyungsoo?” He asked, serious.

“We had sex,” Kyungsoo didn’t even blink.

Chanyeol didn’t react, still holding the key in silence.

“I didn’t break up,” Kyungsoo said.

“Well, that’s obvious,” Chanyeol glared.

“But I am now in an open relationship, I guess,” he said.

Chanyeol looked at the rear mirror, then started the engine.

“That’s honestly so ironic that I’m not even angry,” he shrugged. “Karma is real.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your comments, they made me really happy~  
> I have things related to this fic on my Tumblr, references, on the #worse than nicotine tag.


	3. so I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know what to do,” Kyungsoo whispered against his shoulder. “Because this is the first time that I fall in love. I’m lost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess we have 3/4. In case you just found my fics, I write a lot. This time I'm sure, at least. Sorry.

.

He finished eating, stared at the shoes that were next to the carpet. The house was full this year; Kyungsoo lost count of how many cousins came to talk to him, always the same things, _congratulations on your job, you look skinnier, is your brother coming?_ And he had to smile and be polite because family still was that happy little bubble where he could pretend that he was very well, of course. Since his brother started dating a man, they stopped asking Kyungsoo about relationships, afraid to bring the topic, extra-careful. That made things even more comfortable because Kyungsoo had a good job and a place all for himself, so they had nothing to complain – except maybe that he lost a few pounds after he left the army.

He wanted to know what was going to happen with Lila. He even brought the book but it was impolite to read in the middle of a family reunion. Yet, his mind was stuck in Naples, a place that he had never seen, in mid-sixties, with the characters.

Kyungsoo picked his phone instead; he wanted to go back to his century. He checked his group chat and then, scrolling down the contacts list, he found Jongin – still blocked.

It was summer and everyone was out, seeing new places and meeting new people. Kyungsoo missed ice-cream and Jongin’s soft voice when he wanted something.

“What’s for dessert?” He asked cautiously. They were afraid of his judgment; _Kyungsoo works for a big chef… he must forgive our mediocre cooking._

Before he finished the pudding, he unblocked Jongin. At this point, it would make no difference at all.

.

Kyungsoo was having such a nice time at work, no problems within his family, that he fell into a trap. A good trap, of course.

It started with a simple request: to help Sehun with choosing nice jeans pants. Something that Kyungsoo was glad to do since it was easy. Sehun had the perfect body for expensive clothes and each piece fit him perfectly. All Kyungsoo had to do was sit, wait and say that he looked good, which was always true. Sehun would try to buy something for Kyungsoo, which Kyungsoo would refuse and depending on his mood, eventually accept.

Everything went as expected and Kyungsoo allowed Sehun to buy him a pair of jeans that fitted him ‘perfectly’. It was the same pair that his friend bought and it looked cute to wear the same thing.

“I’m buying then because I’m going to a concert,” he told Kyungsoo casually. “I got tickets and Chanyeol is coming with me. Do you wanna come with us?”

Kyungsoo had things to do. He had to clean his room and take care of his plants and dogs. Maybe he could pass by a mall on the way home and decide to buy himself a new set of pans. He needed a blender mixer.

“Yes,” he said.

After the whole ‘relationship opening’ – _is that the correct term?_ He asked himself all the time -, things became different between Kris and him. They were good, of course, better than ever. They still had time to go out, watch a movie, have sex and talk on the phone. Kris even scheduled another couple trip to Canada, saying that his friends wanted to see Kyungsoo again. But things were different because in their both lives nothing fundamentally changed. Kris was still someone who barely stayed three weeks in a country and had a thousand friends; Kyungsoo was still a cook with lots of work, a few friends and no social life besides eating out (which, he realized, was an extension of his job). Kyungsoo felt an imbalance and that bothered him to the point that he thought that maybe breaking up would be better – when clearly his relationship was a great thing in his life.

Even Chanyeol, who practically forced him to break-up, said so, _I think that he has a way to convince you to leave your shell._

So Kyungsoo thought that going to a concert would be harmless fun.

“Great,” Sehun said. “We’re going to wear the same jeans. Don’t put sneakers so we can match.”

On the way to the stadium, Kyungsoo tied his Vans’ lace and asked:

“Who’s performing?”

Chanyeol, driving carefully, frowned.

“I think it’s time for you to change your glasses,” and he pointed to one of the many pictures of Baekhyun’s face glued around town.

Kyungsoo’s fingers stopped moving.

“Baekhyun?”

“He asked us to meet the staff before getting in so we can get the merch,” Sehun informed Chanyeol, not moving in the backseat. “He said that he wants us to wear the shirts.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol nodded.

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything. He kept quiet the whole time, listening to their talk about music, shows, gigs and work in general. The staff brought them three shirts and pointed to the seats. The place was crowded; dozens of women holding lightsticks and slogans, little dolls in seats, screaming and anticipation. Chanyeol and Sehun changed their clothes in a corridor backstage, careless, but Kyungsoo found a bathroom, refusing to be half-naked in front of that sea of people.

He spotted a few celebrities that he saw once in Gaon and followed his friends to a central place, a small square base with four seat rows. It was facing the stage, but in the middle of the dome, and Kyungsoo realized that these were important seats. Chanyeol pulled him and made Kyungsoo sit first, which – at this point Kyungsoo should have noticed that something was wrong – was weird. They liked to put Kyungsoo in the middle, just to accentuate the height difference between them. This time, Kyungsoo sat between Chanyeol and an empty seat.

The concert was almost starting and Kyungsoo was eavesdropping on the girls in front of them, that had the lightsticks and pictures (there was a whole ritual to perform in the audience, apparently) when someone took the seat next to him.

The lights went off and Baekhyun started to sing in the dark when they all raised the lightsticks. _It’s beautiful_ , he thought, even if everything was a little blurry. He put his glasses on in the exact moment that the person beside him held his hand.

He turned quickly, startled. Jongin smiled at him under a cap and a hoodie, a mischievous smile that made him look like a tricksy child and then Baekhyun's high note made the bright lights explode on the audience and Kyungsoo was blinded for a moment.

It was a trap, he finally understood.

Jongin didn’t say anything during the concert, despite Chanyeol and Sehun’s non-stopping chatting on the other side. He held Kyungsoo’s hand for a while, dropped it during the loud songs and when the first ballad started, he engulfed Kyungsoo in a hug, face lying on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Baekhyun was singing a heartbreaking song and he had a beautiful voice. That feeling of being out at night, the voices in harmony around him and Jongin’s body against his— It was something that would be hard to forget. His fingers twitched for a cigarette but he was too deep in the moment. When the concert was over and Baekhyun left the stage, none of them rushed to leave. Jongin stared at him, smiling quietly like he knew a secret that he would never share.

“Let’s go,” Chanyeol said, gesturing. “He asked us to follow his car.”

Jongin grabbed Kyungsoo’s wrist and followed them, just like that, with no explanation. Chanyeol and Sehun didn’t say anything, as if Jongin’s presence in the car was expected and accorded. Jongin and Kyungsoo were still stuck in that pact of silence, but Jongin’s body was against his, even if they were alone in the backseat.

Baekhyun’s apartment was in a fancy Village and it took a while until they got inside. He was waiting for them with a couple of friends and it seemed that everybody knew each other but Kyungsoo. He was introduced to the other men and they finally got on Baekhyun’s place, which was huge and breathtakingly beautiful.

“I have beers but I’m exhausted,” Baekhyun threw himself on a long white and angular couch. “Can someone fetch me a bottle… please?”

Jongin sat next to him and petted his head.

“You did well today, hyung,” he said. “It was amazing.”

“Oh, thank you, my dear,” Baekhyun said, reaching to hold his hand. It took a minute for everyone to grab their beers and get comfortable. Baekhyun’s friends were on the carpet, talking about a screaming fanboy, so Kyungsoo sat on a single armchair and waited. He simply didn’t know why he was there – he was just being dragged around.

Baekhyun seemed to notice that and he raised his head, still on the couch, and interrupted the conversation.

“Did you have fun, Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo was caught by surprise and he pushed his glasses up with the tip of the bottle before answering.

“Yes,” he said simply. “It was nice.”

Baekhyun didn’t mind his evasiveness.

“I asked the boys to bring you because you didn’t go with your mother at that time,” he explained, smiling. “I’m happy that you enjoyed it.”

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo said sincerely.

“You can smoke in the balcony, there’s a guest room and then no one will bother you,” Baekhyun said simply. “Just don’t throw ashes everywhere as _someone does._ ”

One of his friends laughed and he was nice enough to lend Kyungsoo a lighter. Kyungsoo was happy to leave that room for a while, walking through the corridor feeling uneasy. Everything was immaculately white and clean, so different from his apartment, tainted by plants and dogs, old and beige. The balcony had a glass door, which helped to stop the smoke from invading the room. Kyungsoo felt that relief wave down his body and looked back once, seeing Chanyeol’s leg shaking in the living room, after a corridor, through the open door. The room was dark, only the light outside and the balcony lamp illuminating the corner of the bed. Kyungsoo turned back and faced the stars. It was the perfect weather because they were on the highest floor and the strong winds compensated for the summer night warmness.

Kyungsoo regretted saying yes. He should have been at home, sleeping, and then being relaxed enough to wake up early and do what he had to. He wanted to sit on the floor, but he had to keep the arm out, to let the wind carry the ashes away. When only the cigarette butt was left, he turned to go back to the room.

Jongin was in the corner of the bed, sitting, staring at him. Kyungsoo stared back through the glass, startled. Jongin stood up, opened the glass door and closed it. Kyungsoo’s voice was long gone and he didn’t do anything but wait. There was something about the way Jongin looked at him that demanded attention, so Kyungsoo had to look away if he wanted to escape, but this time it was too late, he was caught.

Jongin held Kyungsoo’s face with both hands and pulled him into a kiss. It was gentle in the beginning like he was asking for permission and suddenly, Kyungsoo had to hold his arm to handle the French kiss. Jongin was hard, shockingly hard, and Kyungsoo could feel it with a certain discomfort, knowing that his friends were just meters from them, inside.

Kyungsoo broke the kiss, pushing Jongin away gently but firmly, one hand against his chest.

“What are you doing?” He asked, concerned. “What’s going on?”

Jongin opened his eyes slowly as if he was trying to regain his rationality.

“I thought that I would be mad when I saw you smoking,” Jongin said calmly, with pauses, even if he was still that hard. “But it’s so sexy, it’s just like watching James Dean for the first time.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t believe it; he snorted, looking away.

“Jongin,” he said, still smiling. “We’re not alone.”

He looked over his shoulders and shrugged.

“I don’t see anyone here,” he smiled. “It’s not like the guys don’t know why I came after you.”

Kyungsoo gulped, trying to focus on the cigarette butt, now on the floor. It was hard to breathe and Jongin’s visible erection was bothering him.

“Is that why you came with us?” Kyungsoo asked.

Jongin let his arms fall, serious.

“I’m in my best friend’s house after a concert that I promised that I would attend months ago,” he said simply. “I didn’t know that you would be here, otherwise I would’ve put more perfume on.”

Kyungsoo smiled, still looking down. He wished he had something as nice to say – Jongin smelled great, as always, he looked gorgeous as a dream. Yet Kyungsoo was silent.

“I also had no idea that you owned skinny jeans,” Jongin said softly. “I’m torn between taking it off or just appreciating how good you look, really.”

Kyungsoo widened his eyes and glared at him.

 _Not here,_ he mouthed. _Yes here,_ Jongin answered.

“No,” Kyungsoo pushed him away. “That’s not the place for it.”

“What? Baekhyun won’t mind, I promise,” Jongin grabbed his arms and rubbed it gently. “Don’t you see? He’s doing all this. He’s like that, he likes to play the mastermind role.”

Kyungsoo was speechless. How did he end having a conversation about an appropriate place to bone when he wasn’t even supposed to get in Jongin’s pants again, even worse in a moment like that? He felt powerless, passive to everything, as always. It seemed that Jongin’s bare presence threw everything into chaos; he was a never-ending disruptive force.

“I will not have sex with you,” Kyungsoo whispered, a bit angry.

“Why not?” Jongin moved even closer like it was a challenge. “The place? The time? It feels morally wrong? Because your friends are here?”

Kyungsoo needed time to organize his thoughts in a nice argument; Jongin didn’t wait.

“Because you look like you want it,” he said. “Or am I reading it incorrectly?”

Kyungsoo gulped, tired. He liked to resist things but it was futile. He stared at Jongin’s pretty face, his eyes that were made of a piercing matter and thought about how easy it was to talk when they were in bed. The first things that Kyungsoo noticed about him were his clothes and the differences between them. Jongin looked like a spoiled, vain man, those men that Kyungsoo would never be friends with. Kyungsoo himself must have looked atrocious in his serious business attire and decorative Rolex.

He kissed Jongin, pulling his down by the shoulders. It was a comfortable touch and Kyungsoo knew that the time that they weren’t touching each other didn’t change a thing. Or maybe it did, because now it felt familiar to react to the kisses and bites, the saliva trail down his neck. As soon as the shirts were gone, they left the balcony and close the room’s door, but Kyungsoo didn’t want to go to bed, so they kept making out while standing in a dark room.

Kyungsoo was, eventually, pushed to bed. Jongin explained:

“I didn’t leave home thinking that I would have sex,” he said, turning the lights on, shirtless and red in the face. “I’m going to ask Baekhyun about his sex stuff.”

“What?” Kyungsoo whispered. “Are you insane? Even aliens in mars can see your dick.”

Jongin exploded in laugher, widening his eyes.

“What? You’re hilarious,” he was still giggling. “So what? I’m still dressed. They’re all men, they know what a hard-on is, Kyungsoo.”

“Don’t,” Kyungsoo tried to stop him, but Jongin was clearly more comfortable walking around with no shirt than him, so Kyungsoo retreated when he opened the door. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his face, alone in the room.

To make things absolutely worse, he heard Baekhyun and Jongin chatting behind the door. Kyungsoo was about to hide under the bed and never leave again. Baekhyun’s loud laughter and Jongin’s witchy one were a haunting noise. Jongin opened the door and smiled, holding a grocery bag.

“I don’t think I had any idea of how much he likes you until now,” Jongin closed the door. “Look at this, it’s a sex shop bag. He bought sex toys for us. He didn’t even give me a birthday gift this year, you know? He just says, _I’m your birthday present_.”

Kyungsoo didn’t have a reaction, and that was appropriate because he felt dead inside. Jongin took his pants off, still talking about something that Kyungsoo’s deep embarrassment didn’t allow him to listen to. He wanted to smoke a full pack, one after the other until he forgot that whole night.

“Hey, look at this,” he raised a purple and small glittery dildo wrapped in a bow. “Isn’t it cute?”

Kyungsoo stared at him in disbelief. Jongin’s smile died gradually on his face as he realized what was going on. He put the bag on the floor and sat on the bed next to Kyungsoo, facing him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

Kyungsoo didn’t feel like answering because he thought it was obvious. There were they, sitting on a bed in a friend’s house; Jongin was hard like they were still making out, almost dripping. Kyungsoo was still horny, of course, but paralyzed.

“Why are you ashamed when your friends know what’s going on between us?” Jongin asked, serious. “Or are you ashamed of me?”

“I’m not ashamed of you,” he said quickly. “I just don’t like the way this is going. I like my private life being private.”

Jongin sighed.

“I understand,” he said, leaving the bed to grab his pants. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo asked, perplexed at the sight of him putting his pants on.

“I’m not going to fuck you if you don’t feel comfortable,” he said calmly, despite the cursing. “Not again.”

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to argue and he felt even more exposed that Jongin noticed what happened when he tried to pretend.

“Not doing anything won’t change what already happened,” Kyungsoo said quietly. “What’s the difference now?”

Jongin froze for a second and turned to him, displeased. It was a bittersweet picture to watch, because it was mesmerizing to watch his anger, the way it made him even more attractive.

“Despite what you think,” he said without moving, “I’m not here because I want ‘some’. I thought it was clear that I like you, maybe way more than I should. Fuck, Kyungsoo, is that so hard to get? How do you think that it makes me feel seeing you trying so hard to dodge my affection?”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what he was expecting to hear, but sure it wasn’t that. Jongin walked around the bed and picked his shirt on the balcony, angry.

“I’m horny but damn, I have feelings,” he muttered. “The difference is that there’s so much rejection I can take before you break me. The difference is that I want more than this and I’m craving a sweet side of yours that you can only give me in homeopathic doses.”

He sat on the bed again suddenly, facing the balcony. Kyungsoo stared at his back, the thin white line and the tiny scars. It was such a familiar sight, something that was now truly engraved in his heart like they were his own. He knew it, since the start, and as always, when he wanted something so badly, he ran away from it, not feeling like he truly deserved it. It was new and raw and he didn’t like surprises. Kyungsoo moved in bed slowly and back hugged him, arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder. Now, they were both looking in the same direction.

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo said and kissed his bare shoulder gently.

Jongin made a tiny sound, relaxing in his arms, resting his back on Kyungsoo.

“I don’t know what to do,” Kyungsoo whispered against his shoulder. “Because this is the first time that I fall in love. I’m lost.”

Jongin’s breath was erratic but he didn’t say anything. Kyungsoo understood, of course – he needed to listen, not speak.

“And I’m not ashamed of you. Why would I be? You’re everything that I would want to have and more. I’m ashamed of myself because I try so hard to keep my feelings private and it’s hard when you’re around,” Kyungsoo sighed. “Do you think that I care that they know that I’m having sex? I don’t. But my friends know that this is not my usual behavior. They know that I don’t act this reckless. They know this is because I can’t say no to you and I’m great at saying no. You're an exception and that says a lot.”

Jongin put his hand over Kyungsoo’s ones, holding his waist.

“I feel like I have to apologize but I don’t know how,” Kyungsoo confessed.

“There are handcuffs in that bag,” Jongin said simply. “They’re pink and fluffy. You know what you have to do.”

Kyungsoo stared at him, almost laughing.

“What?” Jongin turned his face to look back at him, smiling. “I’m extremely emotional right now, but I’m also insanely horny, so.”

Kyungsoo slapped his crotch and Jongin laughed.

“How do you keep this thing like a rock,” he complained.

“You’re here and you’re touching me,” Jongin said softly. “It’s pretty easy, actually.”

Kyungsoo leaned back, letting him go. It felt scarier than the first time that he held a gun and he was still wearing pants but he felt completely naked after confessing. For a moment, he was ready to inform Jongin that he didn’t want sex or touching, that he needed two weeks alone at least before facing anyone ever again. But Jongin was happy, playing with the things inside the bag, putting on cat ears headband and laughing like a kid. Kyungsoo realized that he was indeed in love, it wasn’t just something he said, he truly fell for someone. Damn.

“Should I handcuff you or you handcuff me?” Jongin shook his head lightly, grabbing the pink toy.

Kyungsoo took his pants off and stretched.

“Lay down,” he said.

“Oh, it’s me,” Jongin said excitedly, throwing himself on the bed. “But there’s no headboard…”

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything; he held Jongin’s wrists, one by one, handcuffing him carefully and moving his arms until the hands were above his head, resting on the pillow.

“Are you comfortable?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Yes, just curious,” he said, fingers moving restlessly.

Kyungsoo took his pants off, appreciating how his dick bounced, poor thing, wet and untouched. He took his time finding what he wanted. He had to deal with a glittery lube that warmed his fingers when he was fingering himself.

“You’ll get the shiniest asshole ever,” Jongin snorted. “At least it smells nice.”

“You too,” Kyungsoo said, spreading his legs apart. Jongin gaped a little and even trembled when Kyungsoo gently slipped a finger in.

“What you’re doing?” He asked, confused. Kyungsoo used his dry hand to pick that small dildo that Jongin liked so much; he opened his mouth and put it inside, sucking it slowly. Jongin’s eyes were again in that piercing mode, completely focused on the way Kyungsoo played with the dildo.

“That’s plain torture,” he said breathlessly.

Kyungsoo then just had to slip it in him slowly and patiently, just in case Jongin didn’t agree with it. Jongin didn’t seem to mind, actually and he looked like a painting, arms above head, sweaty and naked, open legs and wide eyes. Kyungsoo pushed his legs down and sat on his crotch, knees on each side of his waist. 

“Well shit,” Jongin gulped and closed his eyes when he felt the pressure. Kyungsoo leaned down and kissed him with no hurry, sucking his bottom lip and breathing into his skin. It was the needed distraction, just to calm him down and go back to their old routine – Kyungsoo would ride him into oblivion this time. It was really hard to pay attention to anything after, really. He sat up, fucked himself until he could, holding Jongin’s knees and leaning back, and the light in the room was too weak, giving him that feeling of not being there – just as he felt when he was high. Jongin was different too, barely speaking, no obscenities coming out of his mouth as he liked so much.

“I can’t hold any longer,” Jongin breathed out. His eyes were barely open and Kyungsoo admired how, not even while coming, he moved his arms. He came with a tiny grunt and Kyungsoo realized that they didn’t use a condom this time.

Kyungsoo felt full and numb, watching the pretty sight of Jongin there, sweaty and naked under him, arms above his head, hands cuffed.

“Yes,” he said, jerking himself off, still moving. Jongin quivered under him, groaning, and yet Kyungsoo rode him until he could.

When the bliss was over, it was just like waking up from an intense dream. Kyungsoo fell on the bed and resisted to wipe his ass; Jongin – much braver than he was -, covered himself with a blanket and left the room, dildo still up in his ass, which could be hilarious. But Kyungsoo didn’t want to laugh, he wanted to sleep and wake up a week later when the embarrassment would be easier to deal with.

Kyungsoo closed his eyes and fell asleep. Jongin woke him up later, touching his face. “They’re sleeping, you can take a bath if you want.”

Kyungsoo stared at his fresh-face-from-shower and wet hair, to the ceiling and lamp, to the sheets and his mind was blank. “Okay.”

He didn’t like to clean himself in someone’s else place but he had to, so he used the flowery liquid soap and tried to get rid of the genetic evidence inside of him. Sehun and Chanyeol were sleeping on the couch and Baekhyun was typing on his phone while the music was on. Kyungsoo went back to the room and Jongin stared at him, covered by new blankets.

“Hi,” Jongin said.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo sat on the bed, wrapped in the towel. “Are you going to sleep here?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I usually sleep here when I come to visit.”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo said. “I think that I’m going to take the boys home.”

Jongin didn’t say anything but he tried to smile, anyway.

“You should stay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

“I think that it’ll be better if I go,” Kyungsoo said. “They’ll be here waiting for me like it’s their obligation.”

Jongin nodded, defeated. He put his hand on Kyungsoo’s and caressed it.

“When can I see you?”

Kyungsoo didn’t want to think about that now – he was using all of his strength to leave. Thinking about that meant thinking about a lot of decisions that he just made and others that would be a consequence of that night. He sighed.

“Whenever you’re free,” he decided. “You can call me or send messages. I’ll answer.”

“Okay,” Jongin smiled. “That’ll be nice. I love you.”

He said so casually that Kyungsoo was almost screaming. It was too soon to be that comfortable about what happened.

Lucky for Kyungsoo, Jongin didn’t mind his silence. Chanyeol and Sehun didn’t make fun of him also, both too sleepy to function properly, so Kyungsoo had to drive Chanyeol home and sleep on the couch that he used to sleep when they were teenagers. Yet, at night, he felt like he was truly lucky.

.

Two days later, Kris asked him out to eat seafood. Kyungsoo was still confused about the whole _being in love_ concept and he and Jongin didn’t have time to discuss pretty much anything. They talked through the phone about casual things and that’s how Kyungsoo realized that their feelings meant nothing if they didn’t establish a real relationship. Love itself wouldn’t lead them to the happy end and, at this point, Kyungsoo kept asking himself if he envisioned the same thing that Jongin did.

Kris looked tired and not very chatty that day. As they were eating, he informed Kyungsoo that his grandmother – his mother’s mother, - had passed away.

He had never talked about her before, but he was close to his mother, so it was natural that Kyungsoo got alarmed by the news.

“She had been sick for a long time,” Kris explained, calm and reserved as always. “It was a relief. At least she’s not suffering anymore.”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo nodded, the bowl in his hand feeling heavier than a thousand pounds. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate funerals,” he grabbed his cup and stretched his neck. “I’m only going because it’s what we’re supposed to do.”

He wasn’t a great fan of traditions, Kyungsoo had noticed before. Yet, it was surprising to see him fitting that news between ‘work problems’ and ‘game schedules’ as if they had the same weight. He looked truly unbothered, dressed like he just left home, eating and smiling casually.

“I’ll be back in time for our trip,” he warned Kyungsoo. “Don’t worry.”

Kyungsoo bit the chopsticks without noticing.

“We don’t have to go,” he said, swallowing the unchewed mushroom. “We can postpone it.”

“No reason for that,” Kris assured him. “We planned it a long ago and it’s just a weekend, right? It’ll be nice to see my friends and have fun.”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo gulped.

The rest of the night was just like any other busy day. Kris looked really tired, but he didn’t look sad and Kyungsoo thought about that when he was finally alone, about their shell. Kris’ inability to express his emotions or maybe just to actually feel them and how that related to the easy, calm way that he dealt with things. _That’s how people see me,_ he realized. How often they thought that Kyungsoo was cold, incapable of feeling much, just because he was rational and had trouble expressing himself. He understood his boyfriend’s feelings; it was indeed better to see a beloved one resting in peace than suffering and having no relief and yet he knew how that would sound, how his collectedness would look, because Kyungsoo would have done the same.

On the next day, there was a huge problem involving the clashing of reservations. A client got nervous and it was the worst scenario possible. The main reason why Kyungsoo liked to work at a highly prestigious place as Gaon wasn’t just because of the name or the decent salary, it was because the clients were normally the type of demanding people that never screamed, never got violent. They were paying for a refined experience, a discreet evening and they would get one. If something was wrong then everything would be fixed in a minute – and eventually would give them a bad rating on the internet sites, which wasn’t good but they could live with.

This time, the client – a well-known loud celebrity – screamed in Kyungsoo’s face.

“I want to talk to the Chef,” the man said, standing while everyone else was sitting down. “Where’s your boss?”

Kyungsoo always thought twice before involving a Chef in staff’s problems. What possibly Byungjin could do about it? The man just wanted to rant out his frustrations and feel important. He took a discreet deep breath and tried hard to keep a quiet, respectful tone.

“I can put another table for them, Sir,” he said in English, word after word. “And then reschedule a full table for you with no extra cost.”

“Are you deaf?” The man asked slowly and that was it, security would intervene if Kyungsoo didn’t react.

“I will call him here if you calm yourself, Sir,” he gave up. “There are more people in this place trying to have a peaceful meal.”

It sounded like a threat, he knew, but he was just a human being and he lost his patience. He nodded to security to approach and maybe that calmed the man a little. In the end, he had to call his boss to fix the problem.

It ruined his day, killed his mood. Kyungsoo slept on the couch, Ink, and Pepper sleeping next to him, free to trash and break the whole living room. He ignored his messages and spent the next day eating instant ramen and leftovers, zoning out after work.

He passed out on the couch after feeding and keeping his dogs in their room for the night. His phone rang at four o’clock, waking him up. He had to go down to rescue Jongin who was waiting for him, dressed up like he just left a party and holding a sports bag.

“I made the driver mad, I guess. He had to circle this whole area,” he laughed, following Kyungsoo. “But I guess no one knows I’m here.”

Kyungsoo wanted to engage in conversation but he was too tired.

“It was freezing in the airplane but now it’s warm,” he kept talking. “I’m sorry for coming late but you said once that you don’t work on Sundays.”

“That changes sometimes,” Kyungsoo said. “But yeah, tomorrow—today is a free day.”

Kyungsoo made him tea and allowed Jongin to lock himself with the dogs for a while. He didn’t want to sleep anymore but he wasn’t ready for a guest.

He put on a well-adorned cake slice and a cup of tea on the table and sat down, staring at the wall. Jongin sat down, ate, complimented his cake, told him about Pepper’s cute behavior and then hugged him. And that was the moment where Kyungsoo noticed that he wasn’t alone, that he wasn’t dreaming.

“What happened?” Jongin asked slowly, a bit afraid. His arms were around Kyungsoo loosely and his face was a few inches from Kyungsoo’s.

“Work,” Kyungsoo said automatically. Jongin held him closer, pressing Kyungsoo against his chest and putting his chin on Kyungsoo’s forehead. It was something so simple, Kyungsoo thought and yet so calming. There was something about their relationship that didn’t need words; their bodies knew how to talk better than them.

Kyungsoo hugged him back and got a happy hum as a response. He started to tell what happened, detailing a few things that he didn’t think before but it made a lot of sense, like how he tended to avoid conflict at all costs and at the same time, didn’t feel like he was up to facing that man simply because he wasn’t the Chef when actually, handling things like that _was_ Kyungsoo’s job. The restaurant was owned by the Chef, but what if it wasn’t? Then it would be stupid to call a Chef to fix an administrative problem.

“They should have hired a manager,” Jongin said simply, setting Kyungsoo free. “You’re accumulating too many functions. It makes sense that you don’t want to deal with it because… if you cook, then you should deal with kitchen problems, like if he complained about the _food_.”

“Yes,” but that Kyungsoo knew since the start. Jongin didn’t even connect the dots – he and Kyungsoo met when _Kyungsoo_ was replacing his boss in a meeting. “I know.”

“Look, I shouldn’t be lecturing you because if there’s something that I definitely have to learn is not blaming myself for every little mistake,” Jongin pushed his hair back, relaxing on the couch. “But well. Even if that man was an ogre, that wasn’t your fault? Mistakes happen and it wasn’t yours, anyway. You’re literally absorbing all the bad things that other people did and should be blamed for.”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo agreed. “I know.”

“That’s what makes me happy that I never succeed in Ballet,” he sighed, nodding to no one. “I think I would’ve died every time I made a mistake. They’re insane about that and when we work with things that we love, the pressure is everywhere. I mean, why are you fucking this up if this is your entire life? And then we feel like we have no worth... if I’m not the best at that then why I’m placing this in the center of my life?”

Kyungsoo stared at him, always surprised by how easy it was for Jongin to read his feelings. They were too much alike in different ways.

“I don’t love my job,” Kyungsoo said. “I’m just working there because it’s the best place for me to work with food.”

“I can imagine,” Jongin’s lips twist; he seemed a bit unsure. “Do you… plan on having your own place? Maybe someday?”

Kyungsoo hated this question, he really did. Chanyeol stopped asking and started arguing and Sehun was just doing his best at pointing once in a while. His family didn’t mention it and Kyungsoo knew that was because they were afraid of failure, like he once wanted to be an actor on his own in a business that relied on popularity and connections, and hardly cared about talent alone.

“Maybe,” Kyungsoo looked down. “But I’m good at cooking, not creating. Besides, I have a license, not a degree.”

“That’s not important at all,” Jongin frowned. “You don’t even have to create new recipes. Traditional food always sells, trends die. And if you’re like, doing every job there, then you’re more than ready.”

Kyungsoo didn’t answer or argue. It wasn’t what he wanted to talk about. He didn’t like when people pushed him to new things forcibly. He had a slow pace, he liked to be sure. He picked the dirty dishes and took them to the kitchen. Jongin took his shirt off, got comfortable in his underwear and when Kyungsoo left the kitchen after cleaning the dishes, he was reading Kyungsoo’s book, the third one, the exact book that he was holding when they met.

“Did you finish reading the entire series?” Kyungsoo asked, truly curious.

“Yes,” he said, still looking at the book. “Last month. I’ve cried like a baby and then I drank a bottle of wine.”

“So, is it a sad ending?”

“It depends on what you call a ‘happy ending’,” Jongin said and Kyungsoo only listened to him – he was too busy trying to make the bed for both of them. “The book already starts telling us that Lila disappeared in her sixties. Also, I believe the book is a real story, then there’ll be no magic ending, just… human ending.”

“Were you satisfied with the ending?” Kyungsoo rephrased it.

“Yes,” Jongin said. “But it broke my heart to let them go. I always feel sad when I finish reading a book. I don’t know, it’s like you lost a friend. I didn’t even start reading another book. If I have to wait for something, I miss having a book with me to distract my body. It calms me down.”

Kyungsoo stood in the room’s door for a second.

“You can come,” he gulped. “Let’s sleep.”

Jongin got out of the couch and leaned on the wall, staring at Kyungsoo from head to toe.

“God knows I love to cuddle,” he said, pouting. “But hnmm, how about we don’t sleep _now_? Maybe a little later?”

It’s not like Kyungsoo would say no.

.

Maybe to point that not everything was ruled by Chaos, an odd coincidence happened in the week when Sehun went to Gaon for dinner and then waited patiently for Kyungsoo to leave so they could hang out. Sehun was a man of small sweet gestures like that one and Kyungsoo wasn’t expecting him to open up about life like he did that night, as they drove to a park to walk and talk. He complained about his music career and how he simply didn’t feel like he was born to be anywhere but backstage, which made things easier to be around a showman like Chanyeol. Kyungsoo retorted that Sehun did pretty well on his own when it was about fashion and again, he couldn’t understand why his friend didn’t push his model gigs forward.

“The thing is, it’s not genuine or something I would be proud of,” Sehun said, sighing and hiding his hands in his coat’s pocket. “It gives me money and I’m thankful, but being a model is being replaceable.”

Kyungsoo stared at the people walking with dogs around them and kept the cigarette between his fingers. He didn’t want to interrupt Sehun’s line of thought.

“I understand that this is a job that requires certain talent and attributes that I have. I know I have to look attractive and cool and I know that they pay money for a lot more than the way I look. You can’t simply ask any tall and handsome man to do it, of course. It must be someone that would make anything look marvelous, to die for, that you can put a simple shirt and then it looks trendy because the person is the trendsetter,” he took a short break. “And it’s nice that so many people look at me and think that I’m cool but you that’s not me.”

“That’s you,” Kyungsoo argued. “I’m different when I’m working but it’s still me.”

“Maybe,” Sehun said. “But there’s a much more interesting side of me that they wouldn’t want to look at and that’s the side of me that I can’t show because I’m afraid that it fails. Chanyeol helps me letting it flow, but I can’t be that attached forever.”

It made sense for Kyungsoo, after all. He was also afraid of the same thing. Actually, every word made sense because of Kyungsoo’s new situation – Jongin was camping in his apartment. It wasn’t like when Kyungsoo was a frequent guest at his ‘hidden’ place, since Kyungsoo had a simple objective there – to get laid – and Jongin didn’t seem to have any. He just wanted to be around and he even went back to Kyungsoo’s place after spending the whole day with his family. There, Kyungsoo realized what Sehun was saying because well, his house looked like a magazine’s shooting, with Jongin laying down in his underwear, reading a book, surrounded by his dogs and plants, every time Kyungsoo passed by the living room. His aura of coolness – that one explained by Sehun so well – was in each of his gestures; he could be eating ice-cream from a porridge’s plastic bowl and it looked like he was selling the tastiest dessert on the planet. Judging by the way that Kyungsoo's neighbors and their guests eyed him while he was taking the trash out or just being rescued by Kyungsoo at the gates, they only saw that glamourized version of him that Kyungsoo saw back at the New Years’ Eve. Kyungsoo understood – he really did –, but at the same time, he was stuck with smiling and boyish Jongin with tons of colorful bags and slippers that didn’t stay on his feet.

Kyungsoo confessed and therefore, he had to at least see what he had tied himself to.

Jongin came after work, sooner than he used to, in a beige turtleneck and jeans, makeup on his face. His perfume was invading the house before Kyungsoo even opened the door.

“Hey, hey, I have a surprise,” he said, leaving his sneakers – used as slippers – at the door. “That’s for you!”

It was the fourth book. Kyungsoo held it, happy.

“Thank you,” he said, showing the perfectly set table. “I made food for you.”

It was more like an apologizing gesture. Jongin was eating from leftovers every time he visited Kyungsoo, which was cruel and lazy; Kyungsoo could deal with being cruel, not lazy.

Jongin, of course, read it differently. He grabbed Kyungsoo and kissed him in the mouth, a loud kiss that felt more like a statement.

“That’s cute,” he said, still holding Kyungsoo’s face. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Kyungsoo moved away, shy.

It was a pleasant evening. Jongin told him a few gossips about people that everyone knew but Kyungsoo barely remembered the face. He took his pills and ate like he was really hungry, complimenting Kyungsoo endlessly. Kyungsoo felt content; the restlessness that he felt constantly – never allowing himself to rest completely, feeling guilty about not doing enough – seemed to ease. Jongin was there and therefore there wasn’t anything more important. That was the reason why Kyungsoo felt so bad at his birthday, knowing that the person that he wanted so bad was elsewhere, like a movie without a protagonist.

He felt deeply embarrassed about those thoughts and he served a cake that Jongin ate like he was possessed. There was Chantilly on his whole face, on his sweater, and on the table.

“God, this is so good,” Jongin licked his lips. “I’m going to eat at Gaon one of those days. Do they have this cake?”

“No, not really, only the Chef’s recipes,” Kyungsoo smiled. “This was actually an internet’s recipe.”

“I’m happy that you didn’t eat my cake, this is so much better, it would be humiliating,” he snorted. “Can I have more, please?”

“I saved a slice for Baekhyun, actually, I want you to deliver it,” Kyungsoo said. “So I guess there’s none.”

“Why?” Jongin was serious. “He can have any cake in the world.”

“He’s nice to me,” Kyungsoo shrugged and he grabbed a napkin to clean Jongin’s face.

“Yes, I know, he _loves_ you, he’s insufferable,” Jongin rolled his eyes but allowed Kyungsoo to wipe the Chantilly away. “That’s not fair.”

“How can you say that?” Kyungsoo is having fun. “He’s your best friend. It’s just cake, anyway.”

Jongin took off his shirt and folded it, putting it carefully next to him. He looked bothered and Kyungsoo thought that maybe it was an expensive shirt and he was annoyed because the Chantilly ruined it.

“I try really hard not to ask for too much,” he said. “You know I’m fighting for cake because you’re not really that nice to me as much as I want.”

Kyungsoo froze. Jongin had a way to shift the mood around him, just with his raw sincerity and his eyes.

“I thought you liked it,” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow. “Did you change your mind?”

“I want more than just that,” he said, reaching for Kyungsoo’s hand. “I want romance and sweet words. I don’t want to share you or what you can give to me. I want the whole cake.”

He wasn’t talking about cake, Kyungsoo knew it very well. They hadn’t discussed anything about their relationship; Kyungsoo was still dating and, despite the picture not being in display anymore, Jongin never said a word about his own relationship status. Kyungsoo took the dishes to the kitchen instead of answering him.

“I honestly prefer when you look threatening,” Jongin said, looking up when Kyungsoo went back with the teapot, hands wrapped in kitchen fabric. “This whole ‘avoiding’ thing makes me mad.”

Kyungsoo didn’t move, hot steam tickling his nose.

“I don’t like to be pressured.”

“I know, I’ve noticed,” Jongin sighed. “I’ll give him the cake, don’t worry.”

His happy aura had vanished and he didn’t even look at the tea mug, despite the good smell. Kyungsoo felt inadequate and confused. He wanted to talk to Jongin, ask him, listen to him, but it seemed like he always did the wrong thing. He sat next to him and held his face. Jongin was mushy and he didn’t resist when Kyungsoo kissed him.

“I’m sorry,” Jongin mumbled, breaking the kiss. “It’s a nice thing that I’m ruining.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kyungsoo whispered. “If don’t tell me what you want, then I won’t know what to do.”

“Oh,” Jongin smiled. “So does that mean that I can ask for things?”

“If you feel like it,” Kyungsoo touched his chest gently. “Not the cake, though.”

“Fuck the cake,” Jongin said simply and it was mesmerizing to watch. “I want nice dates. I want you to meet my friends as I met yours. Don’t say that you know Baekhyun because he doesn’t count.”

“Why not?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Because he’s straight.”

Kyungsoo snorted. He knew very well what that meant. His actor friends also were and they didn’t understand why Kyungsoo was so ‘reticent’ and ‘secretive’, but they wouldn’t understand most of Kyungsoo’s experiences – liking the same sex shaped everything differently.

“I see,” he smiled. “Then I guess I can do it.”

“Good, I also want you to send me nice messages and heart emojis,” he seemed to be offended when Kyungsoo laughed at his face. “Hey, don’t laugh. That’s the easiest thing. I sent you a nude and you didn’t even answer.”

“It made me almost cut my fingers off,” Kyungsoo said. “Don’t do that again.”

“It was so embarrassing,” Jongin complained, pouting. “At least send me a picture of you. A selfie, if you want to keep the clothes on. Wait—did you—you cut your hand because of that photo?”

“Maybe,” Kyungsoo shrugged. “I also hate carrots so I got distracted.”

Jongin stared at him in disbelief for a couple of seconds, then smiled brightly. Kyungsoo was nervous, his heart beating fast like he was being tested.

“And do you want something?” Jongin asked. “Besides you know, _please Jongin don’t talk about touchy subjects_.”

“I don’t want anything,” Kyungsoo giggled. “Besides that.”

“That’s not true. You can tell me… What would you ask for if I were a genie in a bottle?”

Kyungsoo thought about all the things that he wanted to happen and they had to do with himself, never Jongin or anyone else. Kyungsoo knew how to take responsibility for things.

“To heal my shoulder,” Kyungsoo said. “It annoys me while I’m cooking.”

“Well, let me see,” Jongin licked his lips and stood up, leaving Kyungsoo alone on the floor. “I can’t fix it but now that you have mentioned, there’s this guy who takes care of my hip pain when the pills are too much for me to handle. He’s not a genie, but he’s a genius, I swear. He saved my life a couple of times. It’s a mix of massage and herbs and he’ll make you drink tea every morning and stretch oddly, that’s all. Doctors only know pills and surgeries, he’s different. Ah, I’ll call him and tell that you’re coming, maybe he can see you this week?”

Kyungsoo listened to Jongin’s monologue and took the wrinkled card. Jongin sat next to him again.

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo said, staring at the card.

“So, when are we having a date?” Jongin asked.

“I won’t be here this weekend,” Kyungsoo looked away.

“How about now,” Jongin smiled. “We can watch a movie.”

Kyungsoo thought about that for a second, but he was convinced that it could rain anytime and it didn’t help that he didn’t like to go out.

“Do you like old movies?” Kyungsoo asked.

“What kind?”

“Musicals,” Kyungsoo smiled.

Of course, Jongin liked musicals. His eyes were shining when he found Kyungsoo’s Ginger Rogers & Fred Astaire DVD collection. They watched it on the bed – though Jongin complained that he wasn’t allowed to eat popcorn – and as Kyungsoo predicted, it rained when it was getting late.

“Don’t close the windows,” Jongin asked. “I like the smell.”

Kyungsoo fell asleep, after all, he had watched the musicals a hundred times. They watched another when they woke up and Jongin offered to cook.

“It’s your free day,” Jongin grabbed Kyungsoo’s apron. “I swear that it’ll taste good. I may set your kitchen on fire but the food will taste delicious.”

Kyungsoo helped him, of course. It was a lovely meal and Kyungsoo taught him a few techniques. Jongin didn’t seem to care about his phone and took his pills without the alarm’s help. He chose _Flying down to Rio_ to watch and was mesmerized by the ‘Carioca’ dancing scene.

“They make it look so easy,” Jongin complained, sitting up. “First time my ass, they spent months to get this good at it.”

“Of course they did,” Kyungsoo giggled. “It’s a movie, it’s not real.”

He jumped off the bed and mimicked them. He wasn’t bad, just a little slower – it was the first time that he was watching it, so Kyungsoo didn’t expect otherwise.

“Replay the scene,” Jongin demanded, angry. “I can do it.”

“It’ll take a while for you to remember every step, it’s very complex,” Kyungsoo said. “It seems to be samba, but there are tap dance and other styles mixed in this scene.”

Jongin wasn’t satisfied, his hands were on his bare hips and the pajama pants were hanging low but he didn’t care.

“Ok, so you, movie nerd, know the steps by heart, so come here and teach me.”

Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow.

“I watch movies because I don’t have to move. I don’t like to exercise.”

“Dancing is art, not just a simple physical activity,” Jongin pointed. “What’s the point of watching so many movies about dancers if you never get to dance?”

“Passively enjoying art,” Kyungsoo retorted, fixing his pillow. “If you don’t know the steps, perform some ballet moves.”

“I’m rusty,” Jongin mumbled and then raised his arms at his shoulder level and turned into a human spinning top, moving in the room as the if laws of physics didn’t apply to him.

Kyungsoo sat up and stared in awe.

“Well, it wasn’t that bad, but yeah, not great either,” Jongin said to himself, taking a deep breath. “Come on, Kyungsoo. Come here.”

“No,” Kyungsoo said, now even more convinced. “But I think that you were great. That was great.”

“Thank you,” he breathed out. “I can’t convince you to do anything, can I?”

Kyungsoo wanted to laugh. He lay down again and held the remote control, pausing the movie. Jongin was still standing, looking at him, so Kyungsoo tapped the bed. He came back reluctantly and threw himself on the sheets.

The rain got stronger and Kyungsoo yawned.

“We should go to Rio too,” Jongin said, staring at the raindrops falling on the bed. “I want to go there on New Year’s Eve. People go to Copacabana beach dressed in white to watch fireworks. It sounds like a dream.”

“It does,” Kyungsoo agreed and caressed Jongin’s neck gently.

“Let’s do it,” Jongin whispered, holding Kyungsoo’s hand. “If you agree to go, I promise that I’ll never annoy you about dates. Or cakes.”

“Sounds like a good deal,” Kyungsoo whispered back. “I’ll think about that.”

Jongin pulled Kyungsoo’s hand and put on his face, kissing the palm. Kyungsoo knew that, at this point, he was hopelessly in love.

.

_It’s getting cold_ , Kyungsoo thought while packing.

Kris was sleeping on the couch and Kyungsoo could see him from the room, so he tried not to be loud. Kris was exhausted – he flew back to Korea to leave the country on the same day. They still had twelve hours before their flight and Kyungsoo wasn’t in a hurry. He was deciding what they needed or not since it was getting cold when he found the untouched book – the fourth book. _No_ , he thought. He wouldn’t need it, of course. Kris’ friends wanted them to do so many things and they didn’t even have enough time there.

Also, it was a love note. Kyungsoo knew it very well. Like the card or candies that Jongin brought, trying to show Kyungsoo that he cared, that he was there, something to remember. He must have noticed that Kyungsoo didn’t like that poem that he left and now he was trying to be more useful, _here’s my health secret_ or _here’s the book that probably will make you think about me._ Which wasn’t horrible or something to be mad about. It was just very obvious. He was not like Kyungsoo, running away from any possible competition or complication, he put on a fight, he persisted.

As Kyungsoo predicted, they were on time. Kris wasn’t exactly better after sleeping so much but he carried the bags easily and, once in a while, said an entire sentence. After sleeping a couple more hours in the flight, he woke up and held Kyungsoo’s hand immediately, as if he just had noticed his boyfriend right beside him.

“Sorry,” he said gently. “The longest two weeks of my life.”

Kyungsoo smiled, relieved. He seemed normal. Kris explained that the entire family flew from the countries that they had been living – they all escaped China in a desperate attempt to succeed on their own, including him, of course – and, in the middle of mourning, the discussions about the inheritance started and a few of his cousins started to fight.

“Like an actual fight?” Kyungsoo frowned. “Or… heated conversation.”

“I had to stop my cousin from throwing an uncle out the window, Kyungsoo,” he said. “We’re talking about millions here.”

Kyungsoo stopped talking. He didn’t truly understand this kind of conversation – he grew up being broke and the entire family tried really hard to support each other. Every goddamn time Kris started talking about his family, he felt a little uncomfortable. He thought about Jongin and his glamorous life, the places he went.

“Kyungsoo,” Kris snapped his fingers. “Hey.”

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo blinked many times. “Are we landing already?”

“No,” Kris snorted, his now shorter hair falling on his sleepy eyes. “I asked if you want to live there. I mean, she left the house for my mom and my mom asked if I wanted it.”

Kyungsoo stared at him for a long moment.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m just asking, why are you so afraid?” Kris looked at him curiously. “You don’t have to freak out every time I say something about the future. Aren’t we dating?”

Kyungsoo felt a twinge on his shoulder and he held it unconsciously.

“Yes, it’s just you say things like I’m living the same way you do,” he said sincerely.

“I’m not saying that we should move _now_ ,” he said. “What’s so scary about making plans?”

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to answer _because it’s not so simple_ but then he realized he was going to sound dismissive. He knew everyone around him was bothered by the fact he was so slippery, secretive, reclusive. Kris was being pretty rational after all and that was annoying him because his whole relationship meant a safe place away from his life. He was aware of that; not only Kris being a foreigner, but this quiet and calm nature of his that felt so distant and comfortable. He would never hurt Kyungsoo since Kyungsoo wasn’t in a desperate need of him. He could go to Canada and pretend to his friends that he was a lot more interesting than he was, he could have sex without being so worried and desperate, he could forget to call or not try so hard because Kris wouldn’t care about sweetness or romance.

In the end, Chanyeol was absolutely right. Jongin was just like him, pushing Kyungsoo to grow up and it was uncomfortable. Since their paths collided, Kyungsoo was being forced to deal with a whole new side of him that he didn’t even know that existed.

“Ah, forget it,” Kris caressed his hand. “Let’s not talk about those things. It’s been hell and I just want a couple of calm and happy days.”

Kyungsoo gulped.

“Of course.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to annoy you.”

“You didn’t,” Kyungsoo sighed. “I just need to smoke, that’s all.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have noticed that I didn't explain a couple of things, so here we go:
> 
> 1\. THE MENTIONED BOOKS EXIST. I was obsessed with them while writing the first draft and thought that Jongin would love them, based on his book recommendations. If you want to read them - and I can guarantee that it's the best thing ever - the author is Elena Ferrante and they're the Neapolitan series.  
> 2\. THE MENTIONED RESTAURANT EXISTS. Gaon is a restaurant in Korea and their Chef is a Michelin Star Chef, but of course, here I'm not describing the real restaurant but a fictional version that has nothing to do with it.  
> 3\. THIS IS A BDAY GIFT. Every choice here is made to please my sis, who's a krisoo enthusiast, a die-hard kaisooist and a heartline (sechansoo) stan. 
> 
> hope you're enjoying and thanks for the unexpected support!


	4. I've lost control and I don't want it back

It was written on the magic board in shaky calligraphy: _it’s been a month._

Chanyeol was staring at him, holding that sign, wearing a wool hat and a thousand blankets. He was taking the whole couch and Kyungsoo was just staring back, on the floor. He was right and it was the worst thing ever. It had been a month since Kyungsoo traveled to Canada and nothing truly changed –except everything. It was hard to explain to Chanyeol that, despite not breaking up, he was almost reaching goals that he didn’t believe he could reach before.

“I may have not explained everything,” Kyungsoo sighed.

Chanyeol turned the board, erased the message. Kyungsoo waited patiently for the next sentence because he was performing his best friend’s duties. They were planning their trip to Japan when Chanyeol was diagnosed with a node in his vocal cords after not being able to eat for a couple of days. It was serious, he had trouble to breathe; he went straight to the hospital, facing surgery to remove the node _and_ being sentenced with an entire month of resting and… complete silence. Even the devil couldn’t give Chanyeol a worse punishment. Kyungsoo, Sehun and all of his friends became the most supportive crew on the world, teaming up with his mother to not let him feel lonely or bored.

He showed Kyungsoo the board again. _About the Rio trip? You didn’t explain anything, man. AS ALWAYS! Details matter._

Kyungsoo tried to focus on what happened.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Listen.”

Kyungsoo left the airport feeling deeply guilty. He didn’t break up even knowing what he really wanted to do it, as always. He thought about Kris’ family situation and he didn’t want to be a jerk and make things worse. They had a lovely weekend and went back home like nothing happened. Kyungsoo went back to work and to the kitchen like nothing had happened. Jongin was traveling too and he contacted Kyungsoo a few days later, asking him out. Kyungsoo said yes immediately, not only because he was truly missing his lover but because he was trying to repay for his lack of attitude.

It was a revolutionary night on Kyungsoo’s life.

Jongin drove to his house for the first time. He didn’t drive a sports car, just a regular one that looked like it needed to be washed. Kyungsoo joked about it as soon as he got in but Jongin didn’t smile. Kyungsoo noticed that he looked tired, spotting eyebags and facial hair.

“Where are we going?” Kyungsoo asked carefully.

It was late – most places were closed, Kyungsoo knew it very well. He handled Kyungsoo a tiny card with a cute bear on it.

“My sister owns a coffee shop,” he said.

“Is it open?” Kyungsoo smiled at the card. The bear looked like him.

“No,” Jongin said. “But I have the keys.”

Kyungsoo was worried and he really just wanted Jongin’s happy and excited self back. He wondered if he did something wrong _again_ , maybe he forgot an important date or to send enough messages. He even sent Jongin a picture of himself while he was traveling; he expected a warmer welcome.

Jongin parked messily and left the car to open the shop without looking back. Kyungsoo followed him, standing behind when he was opening the glass door. He stared at their reflexes, both dressed in black, Jongin’s Converse next to Kyungsoo’s Vans, but Kyungsoo felt that there were miles between them. They walked in and Jongin locked them in that dark, empty space. Kyungsoo waited.

“Upstairs,” Jongin pointed with his finger.

Kyungsoo followed him and at this point, he realized that he trusted Jongin way too much. Jongin turned the lights on and the second floor was much cozier. There was a long couch where Kyungsoo decided to sit down, just to do something.

Jongin opened a cabinet and took a bottle of vodka out of it. Kyungsoo watched the way he made a drink from the scratch: vodka, oranges, sugar, ice, and soda in a whiskey glass.

“You can smoke if you want to,” he said. “Just open the windows, please.”

Kyungsoo was carrying his pack and he felt grateful for that. He opened the windows and enjoyed the cold wind on his face. It was getting way too cold.

“I forgot the lighter,” Kyungsoo whispered. “I keep mine at home.”

Jongin found one for him and put on Kyungsoo’s hand before sitting on the couch to drink. Kyungsoo’s hands were shaking, he was nervous, but Jongin didn’t seem to notice.

“How are you?” Kyungsoo asked quietly. “How was your week?”

Jongin pressed the glass against his temple and closed his eyes.

“It was fine. I worked a lot, didn’t sleep well. I got a new diet, it’s been stressful.”

“Ah,” Kyungsoo tasted the smoke. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine, I had worse days,” he sniffed and then finally drank the vodka like he was thirsty. “How about you?”

“I’m fine,” Kyungsoo said.

“You must be,” he said, opening his eyes. “You hadn’t told me that you were on a romantic trip.”

Kyungsoo didn’t blink. _Oh_. They stared at each other in silence, the cigarette warming Kyungsoo’s fingers.

“So?” Jongin said.

He was being deliberately confrontational even when he knew that Kyungsoo hated it. Locked there, Kyungsoo had nowhere to run.

“It wasn’t a romantic trip,” Kyungsoo said. It was the wrong answer, after all. He was supposed to say that he didn’t have to say anything to Jongin, of course, but at that point, he wanted to please him desperately.

“I see,” he said, shaking the glass.

None said anything; Kyungsoo didn’t dare to smoke, letting the cigarette waste between his fingers.

“I have something to confess,” Jongin said suddenly, staring at his drink.

Kyungsoo gulped.

“That night I went to your house, it wasn’t the first time,” he started, hypnotized by the orange liquid. “It took a while for me to realize that you were… well, erasing me from your life. When I notice that you had blocked me, I went there. I just wanted to ask why but at the same time I was afraid that I had done something wrong and… well, ending up making things worse. So I waited in my car and waited for you. I couldn’t call or send a message, so…”

Kyungsoo smoked, anxious.

“I saw your boyfriend,” he said simply. “And even from that far, I knew that he was your boyfriend. I know I’m intuitive but it was obvious. The way he touched you, your body language. So open, so warm. No dodging, no blocking. Relaxed and calm.”

His eyes were teary and Kyungsoo started to feel like he was going to cry before Jongin did.

“You know, I knew I was wrong, I am aware that it was not only weird but absolutely selfish,” he nodded, looking away. “But god, I lost my mind. I drove for hours. I called my friends, oh, you met Lucas that day at Baekhyun’s, he and another friend and I drank my ass off. I don’t know but it hurt me so much… to feel like that, you see, replaceable. _Oh yeah, he blocked me and has a brand new hottie, that’s okay I mean, it’s not like we’re dating, right? We didn’t marry. He can dump my cheesy ass anytime_. I was saying bullshit like this, drunk as hell. It must have been hilarious.”

“It’s not,” Kyungsoo gulped. He wanted to say that he knew that very well. He knew that feeling better than anyone. _I burned your damn poem for the same reason,_ he gulped the whole sentence.

“I know, the other day I felt like shit and I said yes to every offer, even the ones I hate, like when they pay me to go to a party and just be social there, like having to talk to old creepy investors or pretend that I like those influencers that shit me online then ask to blow me in the bathroom because they’re high,” he said angrily. “I got my feet muscles inflamed. They were burning and yet I couldn’t stop working, running, pretend that I still energy to party after the whole day. When I finally went to your house, drunk and completely out of my mind, I had already figured out why.”

Kyungsoo knew why, of course. Jongin didn’t have to say it out loud – _again_.

“It wasn’t an epiphany. I fell in love before, unlike you, seven years ago, when I started dating. And when I realized that I was in love again, then I broke up,” he shrugged, finally staring at Kyungsoo. “I just called her and it wasn’t so easy. I didn’t think it would happen again because there’s a big difference in experiencing something when you’re twenty and then… well, now. It’s not sparkly and cute, it’s not butterflies and poetry anymore. Kyungsoo, I want _you_ and I don’t have time to waste.”

Kyungsoo threw the cigarette butt away before it burned his fingers. Jongin started that piercing stare thing again.

“Did you lie to me?” He asked. “Dump me but don’t lie to me, Kyungsoo.”

“I didn’t,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin finished his drink, cracking his neck. He didn’t look satisfied at all. Kyungsoo searched for the right words to say and he failed.

“Let’s go to Rio at the New Years’,” he tried.

Jongin stared at him again, this time it was softer, almost sad.

“That makes me look like a manipulative jerk,” he said. “I don’t want you to come with me as compensation. I’m not asking for rewards, I’m just being sincere.”

Kyungsoo wiped his hand on his shirt and took the empty glass from Jongin’s hand, putting it on the floor. It felt ritualistic, to crawl over him, pressing their bodies together. Jongin welcomed his touch easily, hugging him despite his dark mood.

Kyungsoo pushed his hair away from his face gently, a caress. “I don’t like to travel. It’s uncomfortable and it messes up my routine,” he said. “I turn down most trip plans and I’ve watched that movie a hundred times but never wanted to go to Rio. But now I want to.”

Jongin was quiet, respecting his pace.

“I grew up knowing that many things weren’t for me. Even if I tried really hard, there’s so much I could accomplish or have, not that I wanted too much, of course. But I’ll never know if I don’t want some things because I don’t want to or because I internalized it… we never know,” Kyungsoo said slowly. “Then you… and Rio. Everything that happens between us. Those things are dreams that I wouldn’t dare to have. It’s so high that not even my imagination can reach.”

Yes, Kyungsoo realized. Something fundamentally changed the way he saw the world. He wouldn’t even travel to Canada if he didn’t meet Jongin even if that wasn’t related to him. He was bothered by his professional situation but not very deeply – everybody complained about their jobs, anyway. He wasn’t that uncomfortable because he never saw himself as anything other than the shadow of a great Chef. Now, the seed was planted. He was thinking about a different future.

“But then I think about you there,” he whispered again. “Under the sun, smelling like sand and salt. And it’s beautiful. The blue sky, a bed for us. And being in love in top of it, it… it doesn’t sound like me at all. It’s not something that I thought that I could have.”

Jongin was gulping, eyes wide open.

“I’m sorry I’m so resistant and… reticent,” Kyungsoo said. “I felt the same way you did. Selfish, possessive, maybe even mad, but I never thought you could fall in love with someone like me, so, it wasn’t worth trying. It would be humiliating to say out loud or… even to myself.”

Miscommunicating, blocking, running away, avoiding. It would be easier to admit that he fell in love with someone that anyone would fall in love with, that he had been that dumb, that careless.

There was a comforting silence after that. With their bodies close, completely alone.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Jongin said. “Don’t worry, we’re going.”

Kyungsoo rested his face on his shoulder, breathing peacefully. He wanted that moment to last an eternity.

“It’s weird but I understood when you said to me that I was trying to paint your actions in a good light,” Jongin’s voice was calming. “It’s hard to understand the way other people see us. You say things like this and I want to slap you, really. Who wouldn’t fall in love with you? You’re just like a mine of gold, the more we dig in… and yet. You must be blind.”

“Astigmatism,” Kyungsoo joked.

“I used to have astigmatism, but then, of course, I did the surgery,” he sounded playful but it’ was actually sad. “It’s not that. And it’s hilarious how I can only see what I’m lacking. People say that I’m boring behind my back, all I do is work and be with my family and after that whole drinking mess, I’m sure that’s all I will be for the rest of my life. Then I thought, of course, Kyungsoo is going on a romantic trip with his super cool boyfriend to where they can do super fun stuff together. He wouldn’t go anywhere with me, of course. Your friends told Baekhyun that you two once had sex after smoking weed and _good god_ that image was stuck in mind, I wanted _to die_.”

There was something comical in the way he said the last sentence.

“You obviously see me differently than most people do, but it’s still better than the way I see myself,” Jongin said. “It comes as no surprise and it doesn’t mean that we’re wrong or right. You’re not blind… nor do I. Sorry, it’s just… I’m happy that you’re telling me how you feel and I still get angry because you can’t see yourself through my eyes. But I compare myself to everyone. And I ended up comparing myself to—”

The sentence hung up in the air, never finished. Kyungsoo understood, he felt it.

Chanyeol seemed to be listening, but he was now drawing something on the board. Kyungsoo waited. He drew a cartoonish version of himself begging, _Sorry! I talk too much!_ In the corner, there was Kyungsoo’s face (two wide round eyes and a heart instead of lips) and a tiny _I forgive my best friend for talking about my sex life._

“I don’t,” Kyungsoo said dryly.

Chanyeol pouted, closing his eyes for a second.

“But I’m not mad,” the cook clarified.

He wasn’t mad because after that night, Kyungsoo’s relationship has died, apparently. Jongin never mentioned it anymore, too excited about their future trip. He sent pictures and news daily, informing Kyungsoo about the place, the prices, things that they could do there, restaurants, clubs… he was just insanely focused, maybe, but also glad that they were finally learning how to actually date, sometimes watching movies, sometimes eating out. In a blink of an eye, a month had passed.

“I don’t know how to break up with someone,” Kyungsoo confessed. He was being absent lately; he expected Kris to break up with him but Kris himself was a distracted person. Every time they talked, Kyungsoo didn’t want to say anything, to cause any problems. He really, really liked Kris and if they didn’t start their relationship by having casual sex, they would be good friends by now. He didn’t want to let it go and he needed to let go.

 _KARMA IS REAL_ , Chanyeol wrote.

.

Kyungsoo set a date and asked Kris out. His hands were sweating and he had to dry them before going back to the kitchen. His boss intercepted him, holding his arm carefully.

“Let’s talk outside,” he said simply.

Kyungsoo was pale. _I’ll be fired,_ he thought and then pictured the loud celebrity asking for his head on a plate, calling him incompetent—maybe he had done other things too. Maybe the hand cutting was the last straw; there was too much blood.

“Sorry,” Byungjin said when they were outside. “I just want to talk. You look nervous—It’s just talking, really.”

“That’s okay,” Kyungsoo nodded, crossing his arms. It was getting dark and he was supposed to leave in less than thirty minutes. He didn’t even put on a coat.

“I was thinking these days that you’ve been working here for a while. It surprises me, really, I didn’t expect you to stick around for too long,” he took a lighter from his pocket. “Just one, it’s getting cold.”

Kyungsoo took the lighter and accepted a cigarette when he offered. Byungjin was young, not even thirty-five. Kyungsoo was always haunted by his success, his Michelin star and his easy way to impose himself. Even in the army, when Kyungsoo worked his ass off, they noticed that he was ‘too nice’ for his own good, caring about things that the other men didn’t, that they started to figure out there when they had no one looking after them. Not confronting, being kind, quiet, not trying to show off – he thought those things would help him to not be seen and they made him stand out.

“I wonder what’s going in your mind sometimes,” he continued. “You’re so mysterious.”

Kyungsoo smiled at that.

“Not much.”

“When you cut yourself, I was worried but I didn’t say anything. It seemed that you were distracted and I didn’t imagine you going through this,” he said, blowing smoke discreetly. “So I wonder if you need any help.”

“It was just a bad day,” Kyungsoo said quickly.

“I just needed to check,” he said and he sounded a little disappointed like he believed that Kyungsoo was hiding something from him. Kyungsoo wondered if there were something in his mind – like _I quit_ , - but he didn’t find anything.

“Actually,” Kyungsoo said. “I’ll travel in a couple of months, at the New Years’s eve, and I would like to have a couple of free days. I can compensate during this month.”

Byungjin stared at him, curious.

“Of course,” he nodded. “I was expecting something else.”

Kyungsoo left the restaurant feeling that he was also expecting to say something else. _Rome wasn’t built in a day_ , he said to himself. When he got home, he sat down to read the last book; he had to read the long introduction to remember what happened in the previous books, every detail. He ended up sleeping on the couch, after reading for hours.

Jongin was traveling, working somewhere in Latin America, where it wasn’t cold. He sent pictures sweating and laughing about translation problems and Kyungsoo didn’t envy him at all, sitting with his dogs and watching movies under the blankets. He still talked incessantly about Rio, or better, Búzios ( _not vuu-jeo-iusu_ , he explained, saying like in English _boo-zeeous_ ) which was a city in the same state named Rio de Janeiro. He heard that Rio de Janeiro (the city) was too hot and too dangerous; Búzios was a better place to stay and he had a friend there, anyway. _There will be fireworks at the beach too,_ he assured Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo worked while daydreaming of him, sleeping in a warm bed, comfortable and quiet, sun on his face or sitting on the sand, wet, burning hot. Kyungsoo embarrassed himself with those thoughts and, at the same time, used them to focus on what he really wanted.

When he finally met Kris, he didn’t feel worried or anxious. He waited for too long and now it was just natural. Of course, it didn’t erase the bad taste in his mouth when Kris showed up in his gentle, quiet way, checking if Kyungsoo wanted something before even taking a seat.

“I’m fine,” Kyungsoo said, mostly to himself, waving his hand.

Kris sat down and asked for food; he was hungry. Kyungsoo asked for water and maybe that was what made it clear.

“What happened?” He asked, frowning. “Is everything okay?”

Kyungsoo didn’t want to start the conversation this way. He wanted to ask about Kris’ week, family feud and his friends. He really liked that part of a relationship – sharing the everyday details, listening to someone else confiding. It was just like friendship but even deeper, an intimacy that only a healthy relationship could achieve.

“I’m good,” he gulped. “I’m not in the mood for eating.”

Kris sighed and well, that sounded like a cheap excuse even for Kyungsoo himself.

“What happened?” He repeated, now sounding tired.

Kyungsoo stared at the table, instead. Sehun suggested that he should start with compliments but it would sound fake and empty. That was when realized, in that easy way. It was okay.

“I don’t want to keep dating you,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong between us, I just want something else.”

It didn’t sound soft, but it was based on respect and honesty and that was what Kyungsoo could offer. He was being gentle – the gentlest he could at something like that –, he was being himself. Nothing in the world would change him completely, not the most enormous pressure, not all the circumstances. There was always another day to built his dream job, a new relationship, a good answer; punishing himself for not being what other people wanted him to be wouldn’t make things easier.

Kris didn’t seem surprised or disappointed.

“I guess you came unexpectedly and you’ll leave unexpectedly,” he said finally.

The silence that followed was almost a mourning. Not even the noise around them helped it.

“I like you,” Kyungsoo said, not only to say something but because it was true. “But I love someone else.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Kris said easily. “I’ll truly miss what we had but I won’t die. I’m not hurt. You didn’t promise me to stick around for too long, so. I’m not shocked.”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what to do after that. He didn’t know if he should leave or if it would be rude. Breaking up was a whole new experience and he thought what that meant: not only a step forward but a loss. Kyungsoo thought about that first night on Jongin’s apartment and how ignorant he was to judge what Jongin did as detachment when in fact Jongin was just showing how much he cared and put effort to keep things as they were. The picture surrounded by heart stickers, the cramped apartment, the tiring schedules. He really tried.

“Geez,” Kris said. “This feels like my grandma’s funeral. Just order food and complain about your job, Kyungsoo. We’re not strangers just because we broke up.”

“How many times did you break up?” Kyungsoo asked curiously.

“A few,” he shrugged. “But this one doesn’t count. You were the one to do it.”

Kyungsoo looked away.

“Ah, you take everything too seriously,” Kris shook his head. “You’re not breaking my heart, I promise. We’re adults. You have my number, if you get dumped then you can call me.”

Kyungsoo stared at him in disbelief, then snorted.

“Are you hitting on me?”

“What?” he smiled. “I’m single, I can hit on whoever I want.”

Kyungsoo laughed this time. That sort of comfort between them hadn’t vanished. He stared at his first ex-boyfriend and thought that was something that they had in common, not allowing the emotions to surface easily. Maybe Kris was mad or sad or maybe just angry but Kyungsoo wasn’t allowed to see it anymore. Maybe he never was.

.

He informed his friends about what happened almost immediately, to avoid complaints, but since Sehun was traveling, only Chanyeol got the full explanation. Kyungsoo didn’t feel sad but he felt empty like something was missing. He went out with his circle of friends from his actor days and drank beer, came back home and ignored Sehun’s calls.

Sehun insisted, so Kyungsoo answered the phone.

“ _Hello, hello, hello,_ ” Baekhyun’s unmistakable voice was heard. Kyungsoo suspected that Sehun’s trip had to do with one of his acquaintances; he could work in the studio on his own if he really wanted to.

Baekhyun called to thank Kyungsoo; he said that he loved the cake and that he skipped his diet to eat the whole slice. Kyungsoo was flattered, barely whispering a ‘thank you’.

“I would’ve loved to call as soon as I received your gift but Jongin is a jealous, insecure and controlling bitch so he refused to give me your number,” he said casually as if he wasn’t roasting his best friend but reciting the ingredients of a meal. “But he got what he deserved, now with that ‘dengue’ thing.”

Kyungsoo didn’t know what that meant.

“It’s like a fever, a mosquito bit him and now he’s in bed,” Baekhyun said, no longer sounding playful. “I mean, it can be serious but there are a few types and he got a weak type? It won’t kill him, just quiet him down for a few days. God knows that he needs it, anyway.”

Kyungsoo thought about Jongin sweating, face red and how he said that he was burning. Of course, he was feverish, how didn’t Kyungsoo notice?

“Hey, don’t worry, really. He’s fine, this is actually good. It means that he’s going to rest, stop that pill addiction for a while and eat properly.”

Because Kyungsoo was obviously affected by this information, Baekhyun gave him the address of Jongin’s house, his family’s house, and promised that he would call again so they could hang out.

Kyungsoo was worried. Jongin didn’t answer his phone for a whole day and then sent a message telling him that he couldn’t talk because he was going home, stuck between long flights – which only made Kyungsoo more worried. He waited anxiously, distracted only by work and his dogs. And he smoked.

After a couple of days, Jongin hadn’t answered yet. Kyungsoo thought about calling his friends and he blamed himself for not befriending anyone around Jongin. The only person that he could ask for information was Baekhyun but he was obviously too busy. Kyungsoo picked the card that Jongin gave him. _There’s nothing wrong with caring about him_ , he thought. And then he put his sneakers on and got ready to do the most impulsive and reckless act that he had ever done.

He left his house, hailed a cab and gave Jongin’s home address. On the way to his house, between passing trees and people walking by, he fought against the need to hide, to avoid. Thousands of little voices were trying to convince him how embarrassing it would be – it would take years until he found that funny enough to share with his friends. Kyungsoo forgot his lighter and he dropped in the street to no one.

“Is it here?” The driver asked.

“Yes,” Kyungsoo said but he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know how the house looked like, after all. He jumped off the car and checked the number, the exact same number from the address Baekhyun told him. It was a long beige gaze framed by stone walls and plants. The door was also beige and there was a camera directed at the sidewalk. If one was seen, there would be a few others that he couldn’t; a sign with red letters warned that ‘ _This property is under video surveillance by day/night cameras. All activity is recorded._ ’ Kyungsoo stared at the camera and rang the doorbell, after all, now he couldn’t go back, anyway. He simply ignored that Jongin was a celebrity and it was too early in the morning.

A beep startled him.

“Hello, please identify yourself,” said a woman.

“I’m Do Kyungsoo,” he said firmly, trying to not look like a stranger. “I’m a friend of Jongin and he’s not answering my calls, is he home?”

“Wait a minute,” she said. Beep.

Kyungsoo crossed his arms, feeling cold. The sound of his foot hitting the stone wall was the only thing audible around him. He checked his watch, unused with the quietness; he was born and raised in an apartment, where there was never silence. That street with long walls was freaking him out.

After a few minutes, he heard loud barking and then the door opened.

“Hello,” the woman smiled. She was tall and pretty, hair combed in a bun; despite the casual dressing with a huge mickey shirt, she looked older than him.

He bowed. A labrador ran to him, but she pulled him back by the collar.

“Sorry,” she explained. “His dogs are excited but they won’t bite you. Please follow me.”

Kyungsoo stared at the garden and the narrow stony path to the house. She opened another door and gestured so he could follow her after taking off his shoes. It was bright and cozy inside and she asked him to wait for a while, so he sat on the couch, facing a fireplace.

“He said he was gross or something,” she rolled her eyes. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“No, thank you,” he said, staring at the family photos. She was his sister, though she didn’t introduce himself. It was obvious because they looked alike and now he was seeing all of them through pictures. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but smile when he spotted a picture of Jongin, posing as a child.

“It’s going to take a while,” she said, leaving the room. “He doesn’t get to sleep a whole night that often, I swear he’s been sleeping for fourteen hours.”

He smiled, interlacing his fingers. In the corner of the room, next to a door, a tiny dog was staring at him like a security guard. The door opened and Jongin peeked out, eyes searching for Kyungsoo.

“Hello,” Kyungsoo gulped.

Jongin widened his eyes and stepped out of the room. He was wearing red boxer shorts and he seemed healthy.

“Am I suffering from a frenzy?” He laughed. “I can’t believe you’re here, hyung.”

“Nor do I,” Kyungsoo said sincerely. “You didn’t return my calls.”

“Come here,” Jongin pointed with his head. “I’m sorry about that. I haven’t been exactly awake for the past five days. At least I’m not sweating like a pig anymore.”

Kyungsoo almost snorted when he saw Jongin’s room – it wasn’t big, but it was still pretty much the same from his childhood (probably). The bed was shaped like a car and covered in pillows and teddy bears. All the furniture was smashed on one side because the other was just carpet, ending in a mirrored wall.

“I can see why you need an apartment,” Kyungsoo said.

“What?” Jongin laughed. “Do you think anyone cares about my Hot Wheels bed when I’m around?”

Kyungsoo stared at him, serious.

“Yes.”

“Shut up,” Jongin pushed him playfully. “Sit on my bed, mi casa su casa.”

Kyungsoo sat on the bed and faced Jongin. He looked really healthy with no make-up on, though he looked slightly skinnier.

“Did you lose weight?”

“Yes, it was a hell of a week,” Jongin sat next to him. “I can’t do anything, it’s like I’m a teenager again. I should’ve been treated there but I chose to come home and here I am, being forced to eat porridge and watch TV.”

Kyungsoo laughed. He thought about Chanyeol, facing the same struggles.

“It happens.”

Jongin looked at him curiously.

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to know about you,” Kyungsoo said simply. “I don’t have anyone to inform me about you.”

Jongin was quiet for a moment, licking his dry lips, thinking.

“I thought you took pity on me and came to take care of me,” he winked. “I mean, that would be nice, huh?”

“I have to go to work in two hours,” Kyungsoo said dryly.

Jongin pouted, leaning on him. His skin was warm and sticky, smelling like sweat. It was lovely.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he repeated. “I wish I wasn’t that gross so we could make out.”

“You’re sick,” Kyungsoo pointed.

“Who cares, it’s not contagious,” Jongin retorted.

The door opened and Kyungsoo moved away from him, startled. His sister walked in and crossed his arms.

“Can your _friend_ keep an eye on you? We’re out of milk and eggs,” she said, not bothering them.

“First, will your hand fall from your wrist if you knock on the door? Also, don’t say 'friend' like you’re implying something,” Jongin rolled his eyes (just like she did before). “He’s taken, that’s offensive, you know?”

She looked tired. Kyungsoo was in the middle of an ancient feud.

“I’m not,” Kyungsoo whispered.

Jongin’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out; his sister didn’t look impressed, though.

“You’re not?” Jongin almost screamed.

“No,” Kyungsoo said shyly.

“Can he?” She asked again.

“Yeah, he can, go, leave,” Jongin said quickly, turning his body to take a better look at Kyungsoo. He was staring like he could see through Kyungsoo’s mind, searching if it was a lie or the truth. Kyungsoo stared back, unafraid. He was proud of himself, finally. He went from running away, blocking, avoid, to dare to step on Jongin’s most intimate place.

“No lies,” Jongin said. “Why?”

“It was about time, I think,” Kyungsoo said. “It didn’t have a function anymore.”

“Oh my, this is so impersonal,” Jongin frowned. “You’re too rational sometimes. What function that person had in your life, then?”

“Distract me from you,” Kyungsoo said.

Jongin was too serious, his face not moving, despite his eyes doing that staring game that he did so often. For a second, Kyungsoo was convinced that he wasn’t pleased by the truth.

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” Jongin said gravely. “You can’t just say things like that and expect that I don’t start a riot for you.”

Kyungsoo raised the eyebrows, surprised.

“No, I’m deadly serious, Kyungsoo,” he raised a finger. “You’re messing with the wrong guy and if you’re not going to marry me, I’ll have to hunt you down.”

Kyungsoo threw his head back in a silent laugh.

“I’m going to take a bath and we’re going to make out in this bed, I don’t care,” Jongin stood up, determined. “I don’t care about this dengue shit, I’m going to blow you and these sore limbs won’t stop me.”

“Jongin, sit down,” Kyungsoo was still laughing. “I won’t let you, come here, Jongin—”

He turned back, crossing his arms, annoyed.

“We can cuddle,” Kyungsoo offered. “I can say things in that voice you like.”

He seemed suspicious.

“Say it now,” he pleaded.

“Coom _eee_ too the b _eee_ d,” Kyungsoo tapped the mattress. “ _Please._ ”

Jongin ran to hug him, making an odd sound; the poor bed creaked with their weight. Kyungsoo made sure to cover Jongin with a blanket and check his body temperature.

“Do you have to take meds?” Kyungsoo asked.

“No, they don’t help, the doctor asked me to not take anything unless it was too painful,” he explained. “I have to drink water and liquids, rest and sometimes they give me tea.”

“You should be dressed,” Kyungsoo advised but Jongin only held him tighter under the sheets.

“I’m so happy,” he said. “I love you.”

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything, just listened. That didn’t erase any of his problems, nor his friend’s, nor the world’s. Yet those words did make everything calmer as if any trouble was smaller and smaller, easier to face.

.

They held a surprise party on Chanyeol’s birthday.

Kyungsoo had to hide in Chanyeol's house for a day, being helped by his family while Sehun kept him in the studio, claiming that they were too inspired to leave. It was easy to trick him, as always and he was a mess of tears when he came home and found all of his friends screaming happy birthday. Kyungsoo brought the cake and made everyone put on birthday hats (even himself and he hated adornments in general). It was a nice evening, after all.

Chanyeol had planned a party on the weekend and it ended up being a simple reunion at his apartment. Kyungsoo knew most people there and he was allowed to leave to smoke, so it was nice.

Jongin and Baekhyun showed up. Kyungsoo wasn’t expecting that and he was startled when they walked in three hours after everyone started drinking.

“I want vodka,” Baekhyun announced. “It’s the only good thing for my throat.”

Chanyeol didn’t have trouble with drinks since people loved to give expensive alcoholic beverages as a present. Jongin got himself juice and sat on the couch next to Kyungsoo. Both friends were well dressed and Kyungsoo felt misplaced next to Jongin’s runway look.

“Sorry for missing the party,” Baekhyun sounded sincere. “I mean both parties. We were overseas.”

“No problem,” Chanyeol was happy. “The important is that you're here now.”

They kept drinking and chatting until the elephant in the room was spotted.

“Hey, Baekhyun,” Sehun said casually. “Did you know that Kyungsoo is single now?”

Baekhyun reacted in a cartoonish way, spitting his drink on Chanyeol’s arm. Chanyeol slapped him, cursing; they were both drunk.

“Oh, really, that’s good—I mean, so sad,” he closed his eyes and clutched his chest. “So sad for you Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo laughed because well, it was funny.

“So…” Chanyeol took off his wet coat. “Are you guys dating or not? That’s the real question.”

“You’re not subtle, man,” Baekhyun shook his head. “You should do just like me and buy them a dildo, you know? No pressure, just encouragement.”

This time, it was Sehun who laughed until he spat his beer. Kyungsoo glanced over Chanyeol’s friends in the corner, fighting over the new Jukebox that he got as a birthday gift.

“I don’t know,” Jongin said. “He never told me.”

“Why did you put Kyungsoo in charge? He’s not a great leader,” Chanyeol said seriously. “If you wait until he decides something, you’ll grow old and die single.”

“I will not participate in the roasting of my beloved Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun raised his hand. “He gives me nothing but happiness and food.”

Kyungsoo was obviously cornered and he wasn’t pleased.

“Well, he’s older than me,” Jongin shrugged. “I thought it was only natural.”

“I thought I didn’t have to ask,” Kyungsoo frowned. It was true – he was quite fond of formalities in general, but wasn’t it implied?

His friends seem to be impressed by his answer.

“You never fail to surprise me,” Chanyeol snorted. “But sometimes it's nice, you know? It’s romantic.”

“I want to be asked,” Jongin complained. “It’s important to me.”

“Really?” Kyungsoo asked.

“Yes,” Jongin pouted like a kid.

“Then wait,” Kyungsoo spat.

The other three exploded in laughter. Jongin crossed his arms in a dramatic display of frustration. Kyungsoo rubbed his arm gently after and kissed him on the cheek; Jongin seemed to forgive him.

.

When Chanyeol dropped him at the airport, Kyungsoo had only one bag. Because he was too early, he found a seat near his gate and started reading; he was almost finishing the fourth book. He looked around, smiling every time that he was going to leave the winter atmosphere and fall into a comfortable summer. He wasn’t even that into summer, but…

“Hello, beautiful,” Jongin said, sitting next to him. “Did I make you wait?”

“Not much,” Kyungsoo checked his phone. “Why do you have so many bags?”

Jongin had two but they didn’t need many clothes or shoes, nor anything cold-related. Jongin also promised that they were going to stay at the hotel most days, except when they were going to eat out.

“I may or may not had trouble to pick clothes,” he sighed. “You said you wouldn’t allow me to go shopping…”

“So it’s my fault?” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” Jongin nodded. “You’re crazy.”

Kyungsoo hit him playfully with the book. Jongin leaned on his shoulder, checking his messages on the phone. It felt so calming.

.

Kyungsoo only asked the question when they were on the beach. Jongin’s friend had invited them for dinner at his house and they accepted, of course. It was hard to communicate when they went out by themselves; most people working there knew English but they had a strong accent. Also, it was too hot. The air conditioner saved their nights, even if they were close to the sea and its strong wind.

Kyungsoo never imagined to see a beach like that; the sea was mesmerizing. He once in a while left the room to buy food – he wanted to try the street food – and he couldn’t stop staring. He felt grateful for being alive to witness such a view.

“We only go to the beach when it’s close to midnight,” Jongin’s friend warned, yet they were surprised with the crowd leaving their fancy houses and hotel rooms to walk to the sea, most people dressed in white. Jongin held his hand and kissed him shamelessly, knowing that they were easily taken as anonymous in that place. Everyone was staring at the sky, waiting for the fireworks.

The countdown started at ten seconds to midnight. Kyungsoo asked quickly:

“Hey, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Eight, seven, six. Jongin smiled at him, surprised and pleased. He was wearing a loose white shirt that made him look softer; his hair was messy, dancing with the wind. He looked tanner, red cheeks and lips. Kyungsoo forgot how to breathe.

“Yes, since I met you,” he said.

Three, two, one.

The fireworks exploded. The champagne bottles popped. And they kissed.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> até mais!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always late so happy birthday midou and thanks for being so nice to me <3 hope you'll enjoy this ride.


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